


Sinful Hearts

by witchy_bidipoo



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Dubious Consent, Gay, High School, Homophobia, M/M, Slow Build, Underage Relationship(s), Underage Sex, dramas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6932944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchy_bidipoo/pseuds/witchy_bidipoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At almost sixteen, Jess has a lot of problems going on in his life that lead him to a tricky situation. However they are nothing in comparison to those he faces now. When he loses all hope, his encounter with a man will change his life. Whether it is for the best or for the worse, Jess will only find out in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I'm posting an orginal story. I'm very excited about it though the chapters will take a while to be posted.

Calm is prevailing in this big house of mine. It is eerily odd for it to be quiet when usually my mother’s screams reverberate all around the house, in every room possible. She pours out her wrath on only one person and that’s me; her son. I have to admit that the fact that she is a devoted and fervent Christian is not helping me one bit.  
My sexuality isn’t what she expects from a noble responsible man, according to her own statement, therefore she always criticises everything I do whenever she’s got the chance –which means always. But one thing she doesn’t understand is that I didn’t choose to be this way and I can’t change it. Loving men is a deep part of me, glued to my soul. It’s an intimate part of me that makes me who I am as a human being. It turned out to be natural, so natural that it didn’t shock me when I understood what I felt.  
I knew it by the age of twelve, when I was paying more attention to boys than girls. I’d rather enjoy a boy’s body and admire their muscles slowly blossoming than a girl’s chest growing a bit every day. It actually wasn’t that big of a surprise; there were signs all throughout my childhood. Like the fact that I used to steal my older sister’s dresses to wear them as if I were a princess, or play with my mom’s makeup, though this doesn’t make me a flamboyant and girly gay person.  
My dad tried multiple times to initiate me to American football or carpentry, which is the field he follows seeing as it’s his job. He ended up enduring a bitter failure. Sport doesn’t interest me, cocks do.  
When I came out of that too dark closet, my mother took it to heart. Why did she have to have a son who was a homosexual? Why her of all people? For weeks she couldn’t look at me, refusing to believe what I had told them. When she looked at me again, a spark of disgust was always within her narrowed brown eyes. That spark is still here as of today and when her eyes set on me, I can feel great disappointment flooding off of her body like a raging wave waiting to crush my poor broken heart.  
I know that my childhood’s loving mother is still somewhere inside of her, concealed under that ugly cold mask, disguised as a tormentor to torture my mind again and again. According to her beliefs I am the spawn of Satan and I will go burn in hell for the rest of eternity.  
Under my own shell and under these high hard walls that I built over the years, her words stung and humiliate me endlessly. Her cold and disinterested demeanour is like knives whose icy steel sink deeply into my already wounded flesh to wreck my heart once and for all. I suffer through her harsh cruel words silently, biting my tongue fiercely until blood flows in my mouth to restrain myself from retorting a nasty sarcastic comment.  
My dad never says anything, never. He doesn’t ignore me but he doesn’t care for me either. It’s like I’m a piece of furniture among others in the room. Like I’m another unimportant person in the world. A person he really doesn’t care for or look out for. I was tailed off to a mere person by my own father. A father, that had always supported me, facing my mother when needed to was now against me.  
My sister doesn’t care about what’s happening in the family. As long as she has the attention of our parents, all is well in her own little world of unicorns and fairies and prince charming. All the love that my mother had for me is now directed to my sister, Evie, to her grand delight. Evie takes advantage of that fact to ask for favours that my mother never decline.  
So since that cursed day where my world went crashing down, where the truth fell out of my lips like a torrent of water, there is not a single day where my mother doesn’t comes down at me for the most preposterous thing. The serenity that once sheltered me was long gone from my being. It was replaced by bitterness and loneliness.  
I hold it against my mom for despising me for who I am. I hold it against my family for being narrow-minded and not accept me. I hold it against life to include uptight people that scurry around to judge other people whenever they can whether they are family or not.  
My body is full of disdain for my parents –if I can still call them that. No matter what they will do in the future, no matter if they try to be condoned –even if I don’t believe it, not in my wildest dreams– I know I would never ever be able to turn a blind eye on years of hardships that I had to go through.  
As soon as I turn eighteen I’ll leave the family cocoon to go and build my own life without having to sustain the constant judgement of my so called mother. She is not worthy to be entitled as a mother –my mother– not since the day I came out to her. As far as I’m concerned, she’s not a part of my family anymore. I don’t have a family in my heart anymore, it all turned to ashes. I am now alone to confront what will be athwart my way and ready enough to fight all that will be athwart my happiness.  
The unusual silence in which the house is immersed in comes back in force to hit me in the face once again. A small smile makes its way onto my face. It’s extremely rare for me to have the house to myself, but when it is I am always in a good mood. No more wisecracks to endure, no more apathy, no more aversion, nothing.  
So it is natural that I toddle off towards the living room, happily crooning with a phone in one hand dialling a familiar number. After a couple of dial tones, a soft gentle voice is heard.  
“Hello?”  
“Mike,” I greet with a sultry voice, “I have the house all to myself. Come by in ten minutes.”  
“Alright, yes, I’m coming right now.”  
Mike is my recent new boyfriend. He is a senior at Belleville High School whereas I just stopped being a freshman. It had been a few months since I noticed him and his graceful gait that we noticed from a mile away. Just like his hips that sway from left to right like a boat in the sea. He has a well-groomed appearance that makes him look like a prince that waits for the day of his coronation. His poise is solemn but confident at the same time. He is part of the drama club and every girl swoons when he walks by them.  
Yet he noticed me, a freshman, a frail pre-pubescent little guy that hadn’t even had chairs on his chest. He noticed that awkward guy in the middle of an impressive human tide of splendid young ladies. Our encounter was like a complete cliché romantic comedy. We met at the junction of two corridors when my awkward and clumsy self rammed into his Apollo-like body. Our books scattered around us on the floor and we both decided to gather them at the same time, resulting in knocking our heads together.  
I usually am cheerful but when it came to him, I was shy. With one look from Mike I became a reserved person. After that wonderful day, we saw each other several times until that day where we shared a passionate kiss. It has been almost two months since our first kiss now and every day I thank whoever put Mike in my life.  
He brings me joy that I thought I could never feel again. I love him like I never loved anyone and I’m going to prove that to him when he’ll come. He deserves to be my first time; I want him to be my first time. He is worthy of taking the only thing that still matters to me. I wish to give it to him as a pledge of my love for him so he can understand the extent of my feelings.  
I know I am still young but that’s what I desire the most right in this instant. I already thought about it for a long time now. It’s been a few days since that thought first entered my mind and won’t leave me until I accomplish its desire. I can’t back out –I don’t want to back out– and I know it will happen today.  
Mike loves me too. I can feel it in his brown eyes, in the warmth of his embrace and in the gentleness of his kisses.  
If my mother knew what I am about to do, she would probably be desperately tearing her hair out to wake up from a dreadful nightmare she’d thought she was having. According to her, a man and a woman must wait a marriage with a person from the opposite sex before consuming their love. It is impossible for her to imagine some boiled hormonal teenager give themselves to another person before being married.  
However, we teenagers think about sex ninety percent of the time and our eyes often wonder off towards the young girls’ bodies and the cute boys. Our body is full of sexual tension and sexual urge that only want to be set free. How can we stop thinking about sex when everything around us revolves around it? Television, music, the Internet, everything has a link to sex so how can people can expect us to put it aside?  
I personally don’t have any answer to give and I rather let myself be guided by the stream of hormones coursing through by body than become like my mother: embittered and uptight that would so need to get laid –and not just to give birth to an infant.  
My mother already doesn’t bear with the fact that I am attracted to men so if in addition to that she knew I am about to offer my virginity to my boyfriend, her mind would be lost forever. It’s a secret I am keen on keeping to myself, retaining it buried deep inside of me under a couple drawers. The first time I revealed one of my dearest secrets was a lesson that I learned not to repeat again. That’s what people say: learn from your mistakes. And that’s what I did. I will never be stupid and oblivious again.  
The doorbell rings making me emerge from my thoughts in the process. With a big smile plastered on my face, I open the door. Mike is standing before the open door, his elbow sitting on the doorframe. His smile showing off his lovely big teeth twists my stomach with that desire I feel for him.  
His eyes are a deep brown that can be read like an open book. His mop of black hair falls on his neck, adding to his devastating beauty. It only wants to burn everything standing in its way, leaving ardent trails behind it. I bite my lip while I take the time to look at him from head to toe. He’s beautiful and he’s mine.  
That thought pulls a shy smile on my face and redden my cheeks. I know that my eyes are probably shining when he lets out a low chuckle.  
“Will you let me come in?”  
“Yes, come on in.”  
His voice. God his voice is gentle and soft like a feather. Goosebumps arise on my skin while I imagine that voice being husky by the pleasure that will possess his entire body, whispering sweet loving words in my ear and moaning by name all the while interrupted by a litany of happy sighs and groans.  
My knees go weak and for a split second I fear that my knees will buckle under the weight of my obscenely naughty thoughts. I take his hand into mine and guide him to my room, upstairs, swaying my hips more than I usually do. His voice will be soon overwhelmed by that gnawing desire; that desire that I will convey thanks to my kisses and strokes on his skin. Just thinking about it emphasizes the palpitations I have in my lower-abdomen and highlights the concupiscence and carnal desire that I feel.  
“You seem very impatient.” Mike notices.  
I smirk before throwing a wink at an amused Mike.  
“Aren’t you?” I ask cheekily.  
“Yes. We couldn’t be alone at my house.”  
“True. Let’s make the most of it, shall we?”  
Mike has a big family. His parents met at a rock concert in the seventies and had a litter of five kids. Four boys against one girl who must have felt alone without a sister to play dolls with. Two of his younger brothers are four and six years old, Mike is eighteen. His sister Billie is only a year younger than him. Moreover, the Larsons have two big dogs that use as much space as Connor the little boy of four years old and Peter the one of six.  
Suffice to say that the Larsons’ house is always loud and full of life. Despite their five children, Mr. and Mrs. Larsons manage to balance their love between all of them. Not a child is more loved than another or more spoiled. I admire them a lot and if I had been lucky, I would have wished for them to be my parents too.  
While Mr. Larsons is collected and calm, he always has a funny story to tell, ready to laugh with his children; Mrs. Larsons on the contrary is soft –just like Mike who has inherited his mother’s personality but his father’s look– always ready to listen and give comfort to those who need it. They all support each other and Mr. And Mrs. Larsons complete each other beautifully. I can see the love shining through their eyes every time one of them happens to look at the other. It’s pure.  
From my point of view, they are the dream of every kid. Despite the fact that they may have odd habits from time to time, they still stay the greatest parents that would do anything for their children. I can’t help but being jealous. I envy Mike and his relationship with his parents and siblings.  
They are used to frequently diversify their nourishment. They once went from vegans to some true meat eaters in barely a week. Almost all the food from all around the world happened to cross the way of their plates. They don’t have any limitation. Every week, what is placed on the dining room table differs from the previous week.  
Besides their food addiction, Mr. and Mrs. Larsons are very well respected in their neighbourhood.  
Once my bedroom’s door is closed, I turn to Mike and don’t waste another second before kissing him with ardour. My tongue engulfs his mouth with force and teases his.  
“Impatient much?”  
“I missed you is all.” I murmur against his soft lips.  
Everything about Mike is soft. His skin is as soft as imported silk from the Middle East. His voice is soft and caresses my skin. His lips are an exquisite softness as if he applied balm to give them this texture. His personality is just as soft and considerate.  
My hands ascend all the way up to his neck, gripping his hair between my fingers. My mouth lunges forward and possesses his again to exchange a new burning kiss. I reluctantly pull away and release him from my grip as I try to regain a steady breathe.  
“Come.” I order with a blatantly erotic voice.  
I sit down on the edge of my bed and pat the empty sit next to me. Mike joins me after a second, seeming somewhat hesitant and sits down on my left.  
“You love me, do you?”  
Mike looks at me straight in the eyes, offended that I imply that he may not love me. He takes my hand in his and squeezes it.  
“Of course I love you Jess.”  
I smile, trying to push back any bashful feeling that wants to take over me. I have to be confident and self-assured. Although I am slightly nervous at the thought of losing my virginity, it’s what I really want. I lean forward and capture his lips in a plain kiss.  
“Then make love to me.”  
Mike takes a sharp intake of breath while his eyes widen to be the size of a fish. His body stiffens imperceptibly at my request.  
“You want me to what?”  
He awkwardly rubs his head, his eyes avoiding my own. I inwardly pray for him to stop looking lost. I can feel questions ready to fall from his lips. It’s a bad sign; I know it is deep inside. When Mike has a hand in his hair and looks confused, I know he won’t do what I asked him.  
“I want you to make love to me.” I repeated slowly. “You love me, I love you and I want us to move into a more mature stage in our relationship.”  
“Why now? Why today?”  
I sigh quietly feeling nervous. It looks as if I have to convince him to say yes. I thought he would want us to prove our love towards each other. Determination seeps into me. I muster all the courage I find in me to answer him.  
“I just want to prove that I love you is all.”  
Mike smiles and places his hand on my cheek, letting his thumb brush over the skin in a soft stroke.  
“You don’t need to do anything to prove that you love me. I’m not forcing you to do anything, you know that. I wouldn’t hurt you.”  
“But I want to. Don’t you? Don’t you want us to be intimate?”  
“Of course I do but Jess we have all the time in the world for that.”  
“No we don’t! We don’t have all the time! Perhaps tomorrow I’ll die while I go back home after school. Or maybe one of us will stop loving the other in the blink of an eye, with no explanation because he would have found someone better, smarter or more beautiful. So no, we don’t have all the time.” I finish, quoting Mike’s words.  
“Is that what you’re so worried about? That my love for you will vanish or that someone will take your place in my heart? Because that won’t happen any time soon, that I can guarantee you.”  
An uncomfortable blush covers my creamy cheeks. It’s true; partially. Mike is right; this is part of the reason, but not only. I really want to be close to him and I wish that doing this together will bring us closer than we were before. The more Mike rejects me, the more I feel my heart break. I feel the unpleasant pinching of my heart and all I want to do is crawl back under my covers to hide myself for the rest of my life.  
“Am I not attractive to you?”  
“Of course you are Jess. You’re beautiful!”  
“Then what’s the matter? The real problem. And don’t go using the excuse of the time.” I add when he opens his mouth.  
Mike sighs, runs a hand over his face, and sighs one more time, as if weary of that conversation. Let him be weary or mad against me! It’s whatever, I won’t give up until he gives me an answer.  
“Jess,” Mike starts cautiously and really I don’t like the tone of his voice; he implies bad news, a hell of a bad news. “You’re only fifteen and I am eighteen. You’re too young.”  
At that, I rise to my feet and start pacing in front of him. Too young? Is that really what he thinks of me? Why the heck is he dating me then? I know that in any other relationship, the age wouldn’t matter between two teenagers, would it? Especially not with two male teenagers.  
“Seriously? I’ll be sixteen in a couple of weeks and you’re only eighteen Mike. It’s not like you’re some psychotic perverted forty year old. And besides you’re my boyfriend, no one’s going to send you to jail if you happen to touch me. I’m way more than willing.”  
Mike gets up too and places his hands on my shoulders in a comforting gesture. But it’s the opposite effect that occurs in my trembling body. I struggle out of his grip, my eyes burning by the raging anger that hides a complete lack of understanding.  
I love him and he does too so why? Did I do something wrong? Am I not good enough for him? Would he wish I were somebody else? Somebody who would be better for him than I can never be?  
“Jess... Why do you want to rush things so much? Aren’t we good the way we are for the time being?”  
His voice is still as soft and calm than ever adding to the anger that I feel boiling in my stomach. How can he manage to stay calm when all my body is shaking with anger? I just want him to see me the way I see him. I want him to feel the way I feel about him.  
“Are we really, Mike?”  
“What do you mean?” He asks confused.  
“Are we really good the way we are right now? We never go out in public, we can’t be together at school, and no one knows we’re dating except for your family. It’s true yeah, we get on amazingly well and every time we spend time together it’s the best time of my life, but are we really good?”  
Silence welcomes my little speech. It felt good to finally vent all the pent up frustration that was building up inside of me for the last couple of months. I said all I had to say and my heart was now lifted off of a weight.  
I know that it’s tough for Mike to definitely come out of the closet and I also know that he is not fully ready to do so. But I’m not asking for the moon. All I want is that we give ourselves to each other, like two lovebirds that are madly in love. Because we love each other; Mike and I are in love. Even though I never fell in love before I am just convinced that what I feel for him is love; a first young and innocent love –not that much innocent anymore though. But a love nonetheless.  
“I thought all of this suited you.” Mike retorts, his voice losing his usual warmness. “I thought you agreed to wait while I prepared myself to be ready to come out. Why are you pushing me?”  
“Don’t even try to turn this against me, alright? I just asked you to make love to me because that’s what couples do when they love each other!”  
The fire that is burning in my veins boils my blood and irrigates my anger. Gradually, humiliation is all that surrounds me, is all that I can feel. The man I love doesn’t want me like that and the rejection sharply stings my heart. First my family, then my boyfriend. Is every single person that I let in will end up rejecting me?  
“Not everything is about sex Jess.”  
“I know but it’s still important. It’s important for me.”  
“It isn’t for me, I’m sorry.”  
I release a dark bitter laugh.  
“You either are cheating on me and that’s why you don’t want me or you don’t love me as much as you say you do.”  
Mike sighs. It’s new. The only thing he’s been doing since the beginning of this discussion is sighing and he didn’t do it before. He only needs to roll his eyes and shrug his shoulders to complete the perfect image of a troublesome teenager.  
“I promise you I’m not cheating on you. And I really do love you. It’s not a pathetic lie. Is it so bad that I don’t want to have sex just yet?”  
“It’s not bad,” I say quoting the word bad, “it’s just that I don’t understand why you don’t want us to make love. Unless I am as repulsive as a mutant, I don’t see any other explanation.”  
“You’re not a mutant Jess.”  
“Then why... I j-just need to see with my own eyes that you love me, not that you turn me down.”  
I must sound like I’m desperate but really I just need to be reassured that at least one person in this world loves me. Even if I have to appear insistent in Mike’s eyes. With my parents’ attitude towards me I just need someone to show some affection and show me that I deserve to live, just as much as any other person. Mike already shows me a lot of tenderness. He is the perfect man. But am I that selfish for asking more of him than he can offer me?  
The answer is yes. Yes I am a selfish human being that pushes Mike to abandon his fight to give me what I desire.  
“I really want you right now Mike. Want to show you how much I love you.”  
“And I find it really cute. But I won’t change my mind. You are too young. I don’t want to abuse you even if you tell me you’re consenting to it. I would feel guilty about it and it wouldn’t leave my mind. I just want to preserve your innocence and youth.”  
“My innocence? I lost my innocence three years ago, Mike. What is your next excuse going to be? Are you going to tell me that you’re too old?”  
“This is not an excuse Jess. Stop acting like such a spoiled little brat child.”  
“Oh wow. It feels really nice to know what you think of me. Thank you very much. And here you go and say you love me.”  
Mike doesn’t say anything. He sighs one more time and really, he should stop sighing all the time if he doesn’t want to end up like me. He is too precious to become cynical and perverted by society.  
Silence drags on, heavy, like a burden on my shoulders that I’d gladly do without even if I made it happen. I sense that hovers above our heads, a finale resignation. And I am also aware of the fact that I am going to hurt him. This is not what I want, really not, but Mike would be so much better off without me.  
“I think it would be best if we stopped seeing each other.”  
My statement falls upon like a heavy sentence, like a finale verdict of a conviction judgement to the gallows for a prisoner. I am perfectly aware of what I am doing however I would so like to take back what I said when I see the look on Mike’s face. He winces slightly and pulls a dejected face as he shakes his head.  
But I’m not going to take back what I said because I arrived at some point in my life where I need to experiment things with the use of my body. Feel that someone loves me even if it’s just for one night and that everything goes back to normal when the sun rises again. I want to be all that someone focuses on for a few hours and I want that person to give me love. A love that I lost three years ago, that the lack of takes my breath away every time my thoughts linger on it a little too long.  
I thought that Mike, my lovely Mike, my boyfriend would understand it and would fulfil my wish. But I wasn’t expecting him to reject me. Maybe I should have asked him differently but that doesn’t stop the burning sensation in my heart caused by the horrid feeling of rejection. It feels as though someone had hit me with a leather belt repeatedly until I start bleeding.  
Mike only looks at me, eyes sad. I hardly hold his gaze before dropping my eyes to the floor. I couldn’t handle looking at those brown eyes tarnished by sorrow. All the disappointment that flocked in his eyes is unbearable for me to look at any longer. It reminds me of my own parents’ disappointment. No one else outside my family had ever looked at me that way. Discomfort takes over my body but I don’t make a move nor do I breathe. It hurt a lot more than I could ever imagine having Mike looking at me that way. It’s my fault, of course it is, and I know it, I am well aware of it but it doesn’t stop the sadness to overcome me.  
“If that’s what you really want.” Mike ends up saying, his voice low.  
My eyes quickly look up at his. The disappointment that I could detect is no longer present. It is instead replaced by a false detachment. It breaks my heart to see his usually expressive eyes now lifeless.  
It’s my fault for being a selfish prick. However I want to be selfish for once in my life and only think about myself and what I need. Even if I have to hurt someone else. It kills me to hurt Mike though, it really does. He is a charming person, so nice and caring and full of love to give. I wish I didn’t have to hurt him, I wish he never fell in love with me in the first place. I know I love him but I don’t how to love someone properly and to show them I love them, except for sex. I was doomed from the beginning.  
He really doesn’t deserve to be hurt by someone like me, especially because he can’t give me what I want. But in the end, I still ended up hurting him. It’s written all over his face that he just got his heart broken. Remorse is flooding in waves in my chest yet I can’t do anything about it. I deserve to feel bad for doing this to him. I deserve to be unhappy for a decade if it could help Mike get over me quickly.  
“I’m really sorry.” I say and God knows how much words won’t help him get better but I can’t help it. I really am sorry and he needs to know that I never in a million years wanted to hurt, that it was never my intention. “I’m so sorry, Mike.”  
My own voice sounds frail and so little to my ears. It’s the reflection of who I am inside. I don’t dare looking at Mike. I don’t dare doing anything except double over myself, praying that this hurtful moment will soon end. I’m afraid if I do something, it might trigger something inside of Mike that would make him feel even worse than he feels right now.  
I am a monster. A horrible monster whose heart has been ripped out years ago, doomed to roam the Earth with the only mission of hurting the persons that I love.  
“No I’m sorry I couldn’t make you happy the way you wanted to.”  
And God. I wish he would just lash out at me, yell at me, or just do something instead of apologizing for something that is absolutely not his fault. Why does he have to be that nice? And why do I have to be so cruel and heartless to hurt him like this?  
“You make me happy! Mike, you saved me from drowning when you thought I was interesting enough to talk to me. I could have never imagined I had any sort of chance with you and these months spent with you stay the most wonderful I spent in such a long time. You are an outstanding person, Mike, don’t let me change that. You’re the light among the darkness that is shining so bright. I guess I’m just not the right person for you. You deserve so much better than a fucked up teenager like me. You deserve someone that will take care of you and treat you the same way you treat me.”  
Mike does a poor smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I know what I said probably doesn’t help him at all but it need to be said. I needed to tell him how a wonderful person he is and how much better he could do.  
I will certainly love Mike for the rest of my life; my first love. My heart will always have a special place for him, always.  
“Goodbye, Jess Marshall.”  
He drops a kiss on my forehead, walks past me and gets out of my bedroom. Silence soon fills the room. Not long after I hear the front door open and close. Mike got out of my house and out of my life and loneliness snuggles to my sides once again, as if it never left.  
That thought makes me miserable but I made that happen, it’s all on me. I evicted Mike out of my life; it’s now up to me to suffer through the consequences I created and to become again a shadow in the dark.  
Farewell Mike Larsons.  
The door of my room opens on my dad. Surprised, I attempt a smile that isn’t reciprocated. He keeps that straight and blank face that he always wears when he is in the same room as me.  
“Who was that boy?”  
His tone doesn’t indicate that he really is interested in the answer. I’m tempted to just shut the door in his face but I don’t want to deal with my mother’s wrath right in this instant. Inside of me, a little glimmer of hope lights up but I switch it off instantly. I must not get my hopes up with him. My father is like this, I already know it. They say hope is what makes us live, but in my condition, it consumes me a little bit more every day. My dad pretends to care with his questions from time to time when really he couldn’t care less about me. I’m used to it by now, it shouldn’t get to me. But it does and I hate myself for that.  
“It was no one. Absolutely no one.”  
He nods and a second later, the door is closed again, as if that interaction with my father only happened in my mind -it wouldn’t be the first so I wouldn’t be surprised if that was really what happened. He leaves me alone in the middle of thousands of thoughts that confusedly whirl around in my head. Alone like I am since the last three years.

The days that past are all alike and seem to drag on forever. Monotony is back in my life. At school, I see Mike with bags under his eyes and a sullen face. Not a smile has lit up his face for a whole week after our last encounter.  
I wanted to go over him, talk to him, do anything in order to cheer him up and make him feel better. But seeing as I am the cause of his misfortune I never did. It was probably for the best for him. I would only hurt him more if I ever went and approached him to talk to him.  
At home, it’s scarcely better. Everything is like it used to be; the indifference of my father against my mother’s comments. Her comments are actually more recurrent than ever. It is probably due to the fact that Mike got out of the house when the “perfect little family” came back in their lovely home just as perfect. Sarcasm is good on me, likely my only defence in the world.  
A car loudly honks at me while I cross the road without looking. A hand on my arm pulls me backwards just as the armoured car drives on the exact spot I was standing a second ago.  
“Watch where you’re going, I won’t always be here to avoid you from being knocked over by a car that would lead you to an indisputable death.” A sardonic voice says.  
“I didn’t need your help.”  
I grunt more than I speak and it makes the person who saved me laugh. Talk about a lifesaver that thinks he is a hero for saving you from ending you life under a car’s wheels.  
“That’s not what it looked like a second ago though.”  
“If you’re waiting for me to say thank you, you can go right now because it’s not going to happen.”  
With these words I, this time, take the time to look from left to right before finally crossing the road. I can hear footsteps trotting over to me and I internally groan. Can’t this guy see I want him to leave me the heck alone?  
“Since a thank you is so hard to extract from that mouth of yours, you can at least tell me your name. I’m Thomas.”  
A hand lands in my peripheral vision. I lower my eyes on the long fingers in front of me and look up at their owner. A guy that seemed to be around my age or a couple of years older than me with a smile so wide it might tear his face in two, is standing next to me. His blond hair flies in the warm air giving him a childlike face. If he could avert his eyes instead of staring at me like a hawk with his piercing blue eyes without blinking, it would be great.  
“And I’m not interested.”  
I try to be as harsh as I can but seeing the smirk that Thomas guy sends my way, I know that he is not fooled by my scam and that he sees beyond appearances.  
“Come on I’m not trying to flirt with you. I like my men taller and stronger. No offense.”  
“None taken. Now leave me alone.”  
“I can’t. I just saved your life I have to look out for you now.”  
I roll my eyes, not taking the time to reply something. Looking up, I see that I am close to the skate park. Only a few more steps and I’ll be free of that Thomas.  
“Do you often come here?” He asks.  
I produce an undefined sound as an answer that seems to satisfy him. That guy is odd, is all I can think as I glance at him from the corner of my eye.  
“Funny, I have to say that when I saw you I didn’t have the feeling that you were passionate about skateboard.”  
Perhaps because I’m not.  
“Funny when I saw you I didn’t think you were clingy but you are though. See? Things are not what they appear.”  
Thomas laughs as if I had told him the joke of the century. I frown, getting irritated by the minute I spend with him. Am I not clear enough in all the signals I send? I prefer loneliness than that guy’s presence, and that is saying something.  
When I get to the park, I speed off to my usual spot: a withdrawn corner, isolated from the teenagers that are strutting with their skateboards, trying to impress girls. From where I am, I have a plunging view on the entire skate park without people seeing me if they don’t pay a careful attention to where I am. That works for me because I know they are too rooted to their egocentrism’s bubble to notice me. On the contrary of Thomas that lets himself fall on the ground next to me, leaving only a few poor inches between us.  
“Great hideout to spy on people without being noticed.” He says.  
And surprisingly, his voice is plain and devoid of artifice.  
I don’t answer and he is not offended. We stay sit down in silence for a few elongated minutes, just observing teenagers have fun. Somewhere inside of me I want to join them, to mingle with them and to act like a normal teenager. I however refute that thought as soon as it came to my mind. I better stay alone than pretend to be someone I’m not.  
“I never saw you around the school before.”  
Thomas breaks the silence. It surely is too difficult for him to keep his mouth closed for more than five minutes.  
“Maybe because we’re not in the same high school?”  
“Unless you go to the catholic private Institute for delinquents, though I highly doubt it because you don’t look like an offender, anyway if you don’t go there, then there is only one high school in Belleville.”  
“Why wouldn’t you be the one to go to the Institute?”  
Thomas sneers, as if the answer is obvious.  
“Did you even look at me? I don’t have the right characteristics they’re looking for. I think that even if I went there voluntarily I still wouldn’t get in. As for you and your eyebrows though, I’m not so sure.”  
“What’s wrong with my eyebrows?”  
And why, why do I play his game instead of nicely telling him to fuck off?  
“Your eyebrows scream murderer. You look like an escapee. Are they always frowning that way?”  
I roll my eyes at his stupid question. It’s becoming a habit of rolling my eyes lately. Is he always that chirpy?  
“Why are you still here?”  
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He answers with his stupid smirk that makes me want to gut him with my bare hands.  
I take a big puff of air to calm me down. A murder on my criminal record will be no help in the future.  
“In case you didn’t get it, I want you to leave me alone.”  
“We all want something we can’t have.”  
A wink. He indulges in winking at me. I refuse to be associated with a moron like him, I refuse to be his friend. Better stay anchored in my loneliness than support someone as annoying as he can be.  
A sudden movement in the corner of my eye draws my attention. Thomas is rummaging through his backpack, focused, until he takes out a pen and a sheet of paper, a winning award grin like glued to his face. He rapidly writes something on it then gets up.  
“I have to go. Here’s my number.”  
Thomas hand me the piece of paper on which he illegibly scribbled a sequence of numbers.  
“Send a message, call, as you like. Don’t get knocked over on your way home. I won’t be there to save you.”  
A giant smile lightens up his face as he stuffs the paper in my hands. He once again winks at me then walks away, his gait light. I follow him with my eyes until he disappears from my view. I scrunch the piece of paper and put it away in my backpack. As if I’m going to use it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very glad with the way this chapter turned out. I hope you guys will like it too.

Ever since Thomas introduced himself to me, I see him everywhere. I usually stay alone at school, but now that I “know” him, I always seem to have company. It’s entertaining and annoying at the same time. Entertaining because it allows me to not dwell on the past and on all the gloomy thoughts that linger in my head. And annoying because we’re talking about Thomas here. Thomas, a guy that I barely know and that annoyed me more than anything else. Though he does pretty much everything he wants no matter if I tell him to leave me alone. He always seems to come back.

Going to school on Monday, I was expecting a day like any others. My first two hours of class went by uneventful, as usual and the rest of the morning was the same as it always was: still uneventful. Though, it was during lunch time while I was going to the cafeteria that this uneventful Monday changed.  
Thomas joined my table, smiling widely as he dropped his tray in front of mine. 

“Hi,” he says with his usual cheerful tone, “did you have a good day so far?”

“Don’t you have other persons to bother?”

Thomas smiles cheekily and shakes his head no while opening his fruit juice box.

“Friends then? Anyone that can release me from you will be fine.”

“Now, now, be nicer to the person who saved your life.”

I roll my eyes and go back to the food on my tray that doesn’t appeal to me at all. I play with it with the tip of the fork, not feeling like eating it.

“You still haven’t told me your name, you know.” Thomas says casually.

I look up to him and notice that he stares at me, one eyebrow raised, expecting an answer. I sigh. I suppose I can tell him, it’s not like it’s a big secret anyway, I’m not famous nor am I popular. I have this odd feeling that if don’t say anything, Thomas will keep asking and bothering me until he obtains an answer. He reminds me of a little kid that always asks the same question to his parents until one of them breaks and tries to give him an appropriate answer, feeling tired of listening to him asking the same question over and over again.

“Jess. Jess Marshall.”

I inwardly laugh at my own stupidity of mimicking James Bond. Thomas’ face breaks into a big smile that threatens to tear his skin apart and shows me that he too probably thought the same thing as me.

“You didn’t call. Or send a message. I’m hurt,” Thomas says in mock hurt a hand hovering over his heart and faking a sob.

“I told you I wasn’t interested.”

Thomas rolls his eyes. “And I say it again, I wasn’t flirting with you, you’re not my type. You just have a dark and mysterious aura surrounded by a veil of loneliness and dude that’s great for you, you must have hundreds of men coming at your feet. But it looks like you would need a friend. And this is what I volunteer myself to be much for your displeasure and to my grand delight.”

He shrugs after finishing talking, as if to say his tirade wasn’t that important for me to take seriously. What strike me the most however are the adjectives he used to describe me: dark and mysterious. It is true that since I broke up with Mike –a week ago– I shut the world out and locked myself away from everyone. I don’t smile as much as I used to, if not to say almost never. But that doesn’t mean he should qualify me as dark and mysterious. Because I’m not, Thomas is mistaken.

My eyes are immediately drawn to Mike’s figure. He is sitting at his usual lunch table surrounded by his group of friends. Despite the efforts he puts into attempting to smile and to look relaxed –as if he didn’t have his heart broken– and to embed to them, I can see right through his mask. I can see that he suffers and that his so called friends can’t see the look of pain in his eyes and his poor smiles that never quite reach his eyes, the latter always getting lost off in distance. 

A pang of guilt twists my stomach at the sight I witness. Remorse doesn’t leave my guts and I want to get away from him so I don’t have to look at his saddened face.

“He will get over it, you know? When you just broke up, it hurts but the more time flies the more the pain subsides.”

Thomas’ voice makes me emerge from my thoughts. When I look up at him I notice sympathy written all over his features. Seeing his look of pity makes something inside of me snap as if it just waited for a departure signal to lash out and trigger a storm.

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion. You don’t know me and I don’t need your stupid friendship. Leave me the hell alone, got it?” I snap, fuming with anger.

I don’t hang around to listen to his answer. I stoop to grab my bag lying on the floor and hastily leave the cafeteria without glancing back.

Who does he think he is? He thinks that playing the love’s psychologist will help Mike get better, or even me. He couldn’t be more wrong. I have no idea how he knew about my history with Mike but he better stay out of my business and not get involve in my life if he doesn’t want me to kill him with my own bare hands.

 

The second time Thomas approached me was the day after, a Tuesday. Instead of imposing himself during lunch time, he waited for me at my locker when I got to school in the morning. Before reaching the school I knew that this day was going to be dreadful, in every way possible. 

Firstly, my mother thought it was a good idea to just leave without me, taking my sister to school while I had to run over there to arrive on time and not get detention. And because I had run, my body was sticky and sweaty and my clothes clung to my body in an irritating way. All I wanted was to go back home, take a shower and stay in my bed for the rest of the day.

So when I saw Thomas standing next to my locker, obviously waiting for me, it made what was left of good mood crawl back into bed and leave me for the day. I had no chance of escaping him or avoiding him seeing as he was leant against the locker next to mine and that I needed to go to my locker, just like every morning.

“Good morning Jess.” Thomas exclaims in that still too cheerful voice of his.

“What is good in this morning?” I groan.

I open my locker, drop my backpack in it treading it for my morning books that I will need for my morning classes.

“Why so much grumpiness?” He asks, his smile never leaving his face. Is there any day where this freak stops smiling in that creepy way? I shudder then eye him up and down. I finally resign myself to sigh before looking at him in the eyes.

“You’re not planning on leaving me, are you?”

Thomas shakes his head, his grin widening. Are they dimples that I can vaguely distinguish? Yes, indeed, they are dimples. Thomas tilts his head to the side, reminding me of a puppy, whilst I stare at him.

“What do you want from me? Money? Because I don’t have money.”

“Why would I want money from you?” Thomas asks, frowning. “My family is wealthy enough. I don’t need to bully other student to steal their lunch money.”

I shrug then drop my gaze to the ground.

“What grade are you in anyway? Because I would certainly know it if you were a sophomore, like me.”

“I’m just one year older than you, you know. Just a junior.”

“I thought you were older.” I say squinting as I eye him closely.

“Eh! I’ll let you know I’m not that old! You will have to support me for two more years, little Jess.”

“Too many years unfortunately. I will probably end up killing you before the two years end, especially if you keep calling me “little Jess”.”

Thomas laughs and shakes his head –a gesture that he always seems to do around me, I noticed– a small smile playing on his lips.

“Keep your unapproachable act for the next guy that will go after you.”

Shutting the door to my locker close, I scowl at Thomas while crossing my arms on my chest.

“I don’t play the unapproachable guy (Thomas raises an eyebrow, smirking). I am naturally unapproachable.”

The bell ringing covers up Thomas’ laugh. With a military salute of his hand, he turns away from me to get to his first class. As I walk to the classroom of my French class, I feel smug and proud of myself. In spite of everything I could say, that discussion with Thomas was interesting.

My eyebrows furrow at that thought. Well, as interesting as a conversation with Thomas can be. Satisfied, I enter the classroom, smiling for the first time in forever to my French teacher.

 

On the Wednesday, I didn’t see Thomas for all morning. I hate to admit it but a very little part of me –the tiniest one– was disappointed that he didn’t try and talk to me and mad at myself to make him run away. However the other part of me, the biggest and most impressive was relieved. No one to talk to me, bother me or follow me everywhere. It should have been a lovely day.

But no. Between two classes, I went to the bathroom before I keep walking to my next class. Fate thought it was a marvellous idea to play with my nerves and be cruel towards me as a revenge for being cruel towards Mike. Mike was in front of the sink, his hands, wet with droplets of water sliding down his skin, were gripping the edge of the sink.

When he hears the door open then close, letting pass for a split second the surrounding cacophony made by the students in the corridors, he looks up to the entry of the bathroom. Our eyes lock as I stay put, frozen in place. The second our eyes meet I can feel my breath slow down until it stops altogether. Guilt spreads in all my being. It’s an insane stream of feelings that are too strong and I can’t handle. I haven’t been alone with Mike since the last time we spoke and I broke up with him. To say I was nervous is an understatement.

I break our eye contact and do my business before washing my hands. Not once did Mike turn his gaze away from me, nor did he move an inch. I could feel his gaze burning holes in the side of my head.

I timidly look up to him and sketch a small smile as I turn away, ready to get the hell away from there, tail between my legs, head down and shoulders humped. Mike’s hand shots up and grabs my arm before I can make a step forward. He turns me around so I can face him.

“So is this the way it’s going to be from now on? You won’t even talk to me?”

His tone is sad and accusing. I bow my head in front of him. I deserve something worse than suffer in hell for the rest of eternity, according to my beloved mother.

“Do you want me to keep hurting you the way I do by talking to you? As if nothing happened? As if we never dated and were just ‘friends’?”

Mike furrows his eyebrows.

“No, but you could at least say hi when we see each other or maybe I am asking too much from you.”

I accept his belligerent words in silence and prepare myself for what’s to come. I will take in everything Mike has to say to me, I don’t have a word in this and I don’t want to interfere with what he has to say to feel better about this situation.

“Look at me...”

At Mike’s begging voice I look up to him. I read in his eyes all the turmoil and disarray Mike seems to possess in him and the sight makes me want to puke at myself because I caused this.

“I’m sorry. So sorry but Mike you deserve better and after everything that happened you should hate me, you should loathe me and curse my name, you should do everything you can in order to forget about my existence and my problems and banish me from your life. You shouldn’t want me to talk to you.”

“But I don’t want us to avoid each other either. You- I miss you Jess. Fuck I miss you so much and I didn’t think that having no relationship with you would be that difficult.”

Mike’s eyes are shining with an emotion I can’t –or don’t want to– decipher. His words warm my heart as much as they destroy it in thousands of pieces.  
I don’t know what happened in my mind but a second later my arms encircle Mike’s neck, my hands grasp his hair forcefully and my lips are on his, snatching them with fieriness and plunging my tongue in his mouth, tasting Mike and his lips that I missed a lot.

The kiss escalates quickly and soon I find myself breathless and wanting more, always wanting more. Hands roam and caress the skin and friction becomes more and more intense. Mike’s hand travels from the back of my neck to my back, his fingers browsing my burning skin, the skin warming up under his gentle touch.   
My back is soon pushed against the door of the bathroom with force. Mike presses his body against me not leaving any space between us, not even an inch.

Mike’s lips leave mine and roam along my jaw all the way to my neck, teeth grazing against the skin. He kisses my neck, nibble on the skin trying to find my sweet spot. He finds it easily and makes me moan brazenly in a way I would have blushed from embarrassment if it had been in any other situation. His hips, in a convulsive movement, rub against mine emphasizing the pole in my pants and eliciting a loud moan from me. Mike’s hand that were previously on my back travels down to my butt and grab them, kneading them as he brings me closer to him.

That way I can feel his erection touching mine as his hips are still rubbing against mine beautifully. All of this sends loads of shivers down my spine as I jerk my head backwards.

A strangle noise tries to escape from my throat while Mike is still working on my neck, his teeth tearing my skin to leave marks as his hot and wet tongue eases the pain. The trail of his tongue leaves saliva on my neck that makes me shiver from the ambient temperature of the room. I can feel my legs slowly start to give up and I’m afraid they’re going to entirely buckle under my weight and I’d fall right into Mike’s arms.

Mike... A sudden wave of realisation washes over me. I try to regain clarity as I turn my head away from Mike’s mouth assaults. My hands leave his neck and pushes a bit at his chest to make him move away from me. I pant and try to regain some composure. I straighten my clothes to gain a little more time.

What did I just do? I can feel my cheeks heat up and blushing to no end and the problem in my pants doesn’t help regrets that slither in me like a snake ready to step forward and strike.

“I’m sorry! God- I- I don’t know what happened to me. Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I-“

“Wasn’t it what you wanted? Didn’t you want for me to make a move so we could take our relationship to the next level?”

And yeah, putting it that way, it makes me look like an asshole that only thinks about sex. Which, in the end, I feel like I am, because I just took advantage of Mike when he was in a weak position, just to serve my own interest. If I hadn’t stopped before it went too far... I would have never forgiven myself for using Mike like that, to my own pleasure.

“I am ready to do it with you if you still want it. On the other hand what I’m not ready is to lose you. I know I said that if you really did want us to break up then so be it. But I miss you too much and it’s too difficult to pretend not to love you and to forget about you and let you go and live your life. Especially not when I don’t want to let go of you.”

There’s a lump forming in my throat at the words he says with so much intensity that I can’t advert my gaze from his. His eyes are mesmerizing and burning with so many emotions that it actually hurts to look at them. Hearing so much sadness in one voice twists my stomach to the point where I think I might throw up my breakfast.

I miss him too. God of course I miss him but I can’t. I can’t continuously hurt him and inflict him pain again like I do since our break up. I may repeat myself but I don’t want him to suffer, he deserves to be loved and cherished. And I don’t deserve someone as kind and generous as Mike to hold on to me the way he does. I don’t deserve all the love he gives me.

I am too selfish to content myself with only one thing and I’ll always end up asking for more. And now that Mike offers me one of the things I desire most, I could take it. I could but I would hurt him and I inflicted too many damages for a lifetime.

“Please Jess... Give me a second chance. Let me do all the things you dream about. I want to do everything to make you happy but don’t leave me. I love you.”

“Mike (my voice is tremulous, just like my fingers that are trembling and the rest of my body. The lump in my throat swells making it hard to talk). I refuse to hurt you more. I know that right now I don’t really succeed but in the long run it will. I know I will keep hurting you if we get back together and that’s really not what I want. I’m not good for you. I’ll just poison you ‘til the end of time and that is not what you want.”

Mike lowers his head so I can’t see his features.

“But I want you.”

And his voice sounds so fragile so desperate that I can’t help but embrace him in my arms and hugging him tightly.

Mike buries his head in my neck and his arms go around my waist hugging me just as tightly as me. His pain hurts me. His pain spirals my brain with its strength. I can feel his distress travelling in his body from head to toe and once again I note that everything is my fault.

“I wish I was not like that. I wish I didn’t hurt you because I’m a fucking selfish bastard. But I am, I am a fucking selfish bastard and it makes me sick that you’re hurting because of me. You really shouldn’t react that way for someone like me who’s not worth it one bit, no matter what you will say on the topic.”

As I talk in a voice I hope is smooth and steady in order to soothe him and not tremulous, I stroke his hair with one hand and with the other I massage his scalp in a circular motion. My mother used to do it to me whenever I was nervous and crying as a child when she still cared. It was a soothing gesture that always calmed me, so I do it to Mike, hoping that it will work.

His breathing soon regularises and when I feel him being in control of his emotions again, I release him entirely.

“Do you feel better?”

It’s a silly question. I know it, he knows it. But it doesn’t stop me from asking.

“I’ll be fine.”

It’s a lie. He knows it, I know it. But none of us expresses it.

Sometimes pretending to not see or notice something is easier so I nod without adding anything.

“Good. I’ll see you later?”

Mike nods slowly, seeming unsure.

“Yes. See you later.” He answers fiercely after a short pause.

Before the atmosphere can get any more awkward, I turn on my heels and leave the bathroom with a heavy consciousness.

At the end of the day, after I passed by my locker to grab my things, I find myself in front of the school building, looking for my mother’s car. Every day she comes and gets Evie. If I am here at the same time as her I’m lucky and can get home with them. On the other hand, if I go out of the school late and they already left, then I have to go back home with my feet.

Today seems to be one of those days since I can’t catch a glimpse of my mother’s car. It’s a pale pink, noticeable from afar and none of the parents, students or teachers owns a car that looks the same. Fortunately for them, because being seen in a pink car is not good for my ego. Evie doesn’t care, she’s a girl and pink is her favourite colour.

I sigh heavily and slump to the floor on the stairs that lead to the school. That’s not my day. When I thought a few hours prior that this day couldn’t get any worse, I was mistaken. Loud noises of a braking tyre startle me as I lift my head that I had previously put on my knees.

“Oi Jess! Want a ride home?”

A small smile wants to form on my face at Thomas’ voice but I restrain myself at the last second to put on an emotionless face. Without a word I get up from my spot and join the passenger’s side of the car. Once the door is closed, Thomas starts the vehicle. I can feel him glance at me before he speaks.

“What’s happening to you? You look like you saw a ghost.”

If you take into account that having a heart to heart discussion with Mike is considered as ‘see a ghost’ than yes I did see one and not a little one.

“It’s nothing.”

Thomas doesn’t insist and I mentally thank him. I give him my address and the ride passes by in silence. It’s not a heavy silence like the one I had with Mike in the morning, and for once I feel like I can release some of the amassed tension in my body and that I don’t need to keep an eye behind my back. The car comes to a halt in front of my house a few minutes later.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem! I didn’t have time to come and see you today so it was just luck that you hadn’t already run off home.”

I sketch a distracted smile as I scan my ‘house’. A thought suddenly pops in my head. I shake my head trying to get rid of it but it’s persistent and resist like a bacterium. I turn my back to the door and look at Thomas.

“How did you know for me and Mike?”

Thomas’ eyes shine as he throws me an enigmatic glance. Why am I even asking this question? I’m an idiot. I only affirm the suspicions he can have gathered. Because Thomas is only suspicious of everything. He didn’t know me before and neither did I and I never saw him hang out around Mike before.

“What do you think?”

I arch a brow, a bit lost. Now that I ask a serious question, Thomas decides it’s a good time to suddenly go all mysterious on me?

“You either lied to me and you know me and spy on me since a long time or you were just lucky?”

Thomas hums as a response.

“Mm... I don’t know, I would go with the hypothesis that I am a super hero that knows absolutely everything about everyone.”

He winks at me and throws his head backwards laughing happily. I watch him in silence and feel in spite of myself a small smile coming to my face. I turn my head quickly so he doesn’t notice. Thomas clears his throat and I turn back towards him again. He looks at me with sparkling eyes.

“Jess- (he sighs), I know it hasn’t been a long time since I’ve known you but I really like you. No not like that you moron. Anyway, I just hope that you’ll feel the same way about me and that you will soon appreciate me too because I consider you a friend. As for your relationship with Mike, I must admit it was mostly thanks to my instinct. I put two and two together when I noticed all the looks you send him and his mournful face. You’d have to be a fool if you didn’t make the link between your guilty face and Mike’s depressed expression.”

I stay quiet for a few moments. His declaration is touching. I was so adamant on never befriend Thomas but now I start to feel my will crumble. It’s mostly due to the fact that Thomas is more stubborn than a mule and still hasn’t give up on me no matter how many times I tried to make him leave me alone.

“Thank you.” I finally say. “If you could keep what you know to yourself, it would be great.”

Thomas places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it lightly.

“I never betray my friends. You have my word. For what it’s worth to you since you don’t trust me yet.”

Oddly, I know I can trust him on this specific topic. I want to tell him that I trust him just to erase that adorable pout from his childish face, but I don’t want to lie to him. However I know that it will come. I don’t know why but my hunches are telling me that I will soon entirely trust Thomas.

“Thanks again,” I say as he only smiles as an answer. I glance at the house behind the window. “I better go now,” I say pointing the house with a thumb.

“Oh yeah of course, no problem. Go, go. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

The hint of insecurity in his voice makes me smile even though I hide it as best as I can.

“Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow Thomas.”

I get out of the car and make a vague wave of the hand as a goodbye. I watch the car pull away and disappear at the corner of the street. I then sigh as I turn to stare at my house. Let’s go.

 

The Thursday, during lunch, Thomas sits down in front of me. I hide my smile behind a fake scowl. Thomas spends all lunch time juggling between different conversations that are absolutely not related to each others. Only he seems to be able to understand that many subjects at the same time.

It’s entertaining. However I can’t help but think about why he always stays with me when he must have friends that are waiting for him. I mean I’m glad he’s with me, I like his presence, I’m getting used to him even though before I would have done everything that I could’ve think of to make him leave. I’m starting to like him, he’s not a bad person so far and he’s actually nice with me which is rare, but still, I find it strange that he loses his time with me at almost every lunch period.

So when Thomas pauses to take a breath after speaking this much, I take that as my chance to speak and ask him what’s bothering me.

“Tell me, don’t you have other friends?”

I don’t mean to be rude and I guess Thomas sensed it because he just shrugs.

“Of course I have other friends.”

“Why don’t you stay with them then? I doubt I’m more interesting than all of them.”

“Let’s just say it might get complicated for them.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“They’re slightly older than us. It’s been a long time since high school is over for them.”

“How much older?” I ask, the age being the thing that surprises me the most.

“Just a few years. Now that I think about it, you may get on really well with them! You should meet them this weekend! We all go out together during the weekends. It’s basically the only days we can spend with each other.”

“No thanks. If they’re as weird as you then I really don’t want to meet them. How come your parents let you go out every weekend? Because I suppose you’re not always going out during the day.” I say as I frown.

Thomas chuckles and rolls his eyes as a matter of fsorm.

“First of all, let me tell you I’m not ‘weird’ as you so nicely put it,” he retorts quoting the word ‘weird’. “I’m just very open-minded to all sorts of things.”

“Sure.” I hum, pretending that I believe him.

“Secondly, to answer your question, my parents are very flexible with me and let me do almost everything that I want. I just tell them I’m sleeping at a friend’s house when we go out all evening and a great part of the night.”

“Wow a real rebel!” I tease him with a smirk.

“You’re becoming too confident for your own good.”

The sudden feeling to stick my tongue at him takes me but I hold it in and roll my eyes instead, in a playful way. It’s becoming really easier to interact with Thomas, to laugh with him and be normal. To be my real self.

When classes are over, I walk to my locker and get the things I will need. As I am busy putting my books in my bag I hear my locker being violently shut down. With a start I turn around to the one responsible of that and take a step back when I see the black eyes of the guy I most appreciate in the world. Fred Astor!

“What do you want?” I ask, half groaning.

The evil smirk that answers me indicates everything that I need to know. A second later I’m being pushed against the locker, my bag miserably falling to the ground in a loud crash.

“It’s been too long for my liking since I’ve had tormented you.” He says as his fists close on the collar of my jumper.

A lightning of fear flashes in my eyes before my face becomes emotionless. I knew very well what he meant with those words and I didn’t like it one bit.

“Yeah well it was perfectly fine with me so leave me alone.”

“Oh no I don’t think so.”

Fred’s fist collides with my stomach and the blow takes my breath away. If he wasn’t holding me, no doubt I would have bent over from the impact. Despite the want to release a wail, I hold back anything that wants to escape my throat. I won’t let this asshole hear that he succeeded in hurting me.

“Is that all you got?”

Instantly, I regret saying that but it’s already too late. The harm is done. The glimmer in his eyes grows more vivid.

“After all with a coward like you, I can’t expect great things.” I taunt him.

Inside of me I curse myself over and over to piss him off. The more his anger increases, the more the odds are that I will get a good beating.

“I’m going to hurt you so bad that you will beg me to stop.” He threatens in a low voice, full of promises of pain.

“Not even in your dreams.”

At this moment, I don’t know what’s going through my mind but it’s probably the biggest mistake of my life. Because at this moment, I spit on Fred’s face.  
Time seems to have suddenly stopped. I hold back my breath as I see realisation arising upon Fred’s features. His mouth contorts in a grimace full of fury and his eyes squint so much that you can only make out two slits.

Fred lifts his fist and knocks it down on my face. The strength of the impact makes my head turn right as I start to feel the awful metallic taste of blood flooding in my mouth. I spit on the ground to get rid of the blood and close my eyes, waiting for the other blows to come.

It is impossible for me to defend myself against him. He is a senior and has more strength than anyone amongst students. He is a joke and obviously, the kilos of muscles he has compete with my full weight. Even if I am smaller and more flexible, I don’t have enough ability to fight against someone as bulk as Fred.

Though the next blow never comes. Opening my eyes, I note that a hand stopped Fred’s arm.

“Release him right now.” A cold voice spits.

Fred’s eyes never leave mine as he steps back, away from me and release his grip on my collar. I straighten my clothes as I glare at him.

“Always there to do Justice Reyes.” Fred jeers.

“Yes especially when you’re attacking my friends.”

“You’re damn lucky you’re in the same team as me.”

“Shut up. You don’t scare me at all. I advise you to stop bothering him from now on, got it Astor?”

Fred doesn’t answer and chooses to knocks his shoulder against Thomas’s as he goes away from us. Thomas turns to me and walks up to me slowly.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

Lowering myself to pick up my bag I make a face at the throbbing I can feel in my stomach. That asshole knows how to punch.

“Do you want a ride home?”

“Please.”

 

On the Friday, I wake up with a happy smile. I love Fridays because it means the week is over and the weekend can finally start. And on the weekends, I go to the skate park and watch the other teenagers live their life. This is not very exciting but it relaxes me and allows me to let my imagination unveil. I always carry with me my pocket book where I sketch everything that crosses my mind. It helps me escape for a few hours, having only my drawings in mind. I like to blacken the paper with my drawings and get lost in what I imagine or reproduce.

I reach the school almost hopping around with joy. Thomas is waiting for me at my locker and I send him a glittering smile. He looks taken aback by my attitude and it makes me want to laugh at his surprised face.

“You’re in a good mood.” He states.

I first answer him with a big smile.

“Who wouldn’t be happy that the week is over?”

Thomas slowly shakes his head, but I can see a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“So, question,” he says, “you still don’t want to meet my friends, do you?”

He pouts so adorably that it makes him look like a lost puppy in need of affection.

“Sorry, maybe another time.”

“You know you’re breaking my heart?”

“Oh really, am I? What a shame!” I say with false sympathy.

Thomas laughs. “I’m glad to see that you’re open and yourself with me now Jess.”

The smile that blossoms on his face is so genuine that it touches me right in the heart and makes me smile back effortlessly.

“I’ll see you during the day.”

I nod as he walks away in the corridor, being engulfs in the sea of students. Yes, today is going to be a wonderful day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are people reading this story, can you please tell me what you think so far?

I’m sixteen. This is the first thought that comes to my mind when I wake up this morning. Eyes barely open, I stay put in my bed, staring at my ivory ceiling, letting that thought creep in me until it reaches my brain. And now I fully realise it. I am sixteen years old.

Any other person when they wake up the day of their birthday would feel ecstatic and happy. They would know their parents are organizing a party in a not so subtle manner. I wish to feel the same but I haven’t celebrated my birthday since I was thirteen and it was three years ago.

At the time, I remember that my mom used to come into my room to wake me up with kisses and hugs. Then she wished me a happy birthday and we were going  
down the stairs hand in hand, to go in the kitchen where my father and sister were waiting for us with a cake lit up with candles set on the dining table. After a happy breakfast surrounded by my family, my parents offered me presents, telling me how much they loved me. If my birthday fell on a weekday, they waited for the weekend to throw me a little surprised party. If it fell during a weekend, we were spending the day all together, sharing good moments that would be etched into our memories forever.

Today, I know that my parents will act as if it’s a normal day, when in reality it’s the day my mother gave birth to her first and only son. Though I still have that small glimmer of hope that holds on to the last thread alive. I know I shouldn’t hope because it will only hurt me and I will end up being disappointed. It’s always the same thing; no matter what I say or do, nothing will change. It doesn’t stop me from getting up and ready for the day to come, hoping –and God knows how much I start to hate that word– for a change, for something to make it worth it, to make that special day of mine worth it.

When I get to the kitchen, I see my father sitting at the table calmly sipping at his coffee with one hand, the other holding the newspaper he is engross in. Typical. My mother is nowhere to be seen, as is my sister. So I start to relax and get myself something to eat, sitting down in front of my father.

Breakfast goes by silently. From time to time, I look up at my dad, waiting for him to notice me, to talk to me, to do anything other than read his stupid newspaper.

“Do you need anything?”

There it is; the misleading loving voice. I wince but can’t shut off the flame of hope that lights up inside of me. I clear my throat.

“It’s my birthday today.” Silence. “I’m sixteen.” Silence. “Your son is becoming a man.”

“Happy birthday.”

Once again there is that faux air of courtesy. I am his son not one of his colleagues. My fingers tense around the cup I’m holding. He could have talked about the weather it would have been the same. I think that even if I told him I was about to get a tattoo he would still have the same reaction. Or should I say lack of reaction.

“Where are mom and Evie?” I end up asking.

“Gone shopping for the day.”

I feel like I’m talking to the more stubborn wall ever. I can say and ask anything, my father will always answer me with the same tone of voice.

“Dad do you hate me?”

His eyes suddenly stop their reading as his entire body tenses. I shouldn’t have asked this question; I already know the answer. I think I like tormenting myself. Holding on onto my father the way I do hurts me. And even if I claim that I hate him and my mother because they hate me, there is still that little part of me that secretly hopes that all of this is just a dreadful nightmare and that I will soon wake with my loving parents.

“I hate what you are.”

His answer, I knew it was coming but it still hits me like a slap in the face. He starts reading again, as if everything was normal and that he didn’t just state he hated he’s son’s nature. A nature that I can’t go against, and don’t want to go against. But of course, he doesn’t understand that. He never did and never will. He is just like my mother but what he does is even harsher. He doesn’t get mad, pretends that he cares when it’s all just fake and everything he says to me is always bullshit because he doesn’t give a fuck about me. Not anymore.

So I get up and leave the kitchen, head high, blind to everything that surrounds me. When I get to my room, I silently close the door and take a deep breath. He is not worth my anger. I step closer to my bed (that is cornered on the left, next to my window) and kneel in front of it. With the help of one hand, I rummage under the bed until my hand meets the fabric of a bag. I pull it from under the bed and stand up, checking I have everything that I need for a day out. I usually add snacks in the bag from time to time, to prevent from having nothing to eat when I go out. That way I never lack food.

I go down the stairs hastily for the second time today and leave the house, slamming the door shut behind me. I see no reason to stay locked up in my room on my birthday when the day seems to be very sunny. As soon as I step outside, the sun baths my skin and pleasantly warms it. It’s a nice day for late October. Taking another deep breath, I open my eyes that I didn’t know I had closed and walk away from the house. Skate park here I come.

The day seems to pass quickly; in a flash I feel like it’s already time for me to go. One second I leave the house and get to the skate park and the next second, I had barely closed my eyes that it’s already the end of the afternoon.

Sighing, I admire the sky as the sun goes down a bit more with each passing minute. The sky is tinted with red, orange and some faded pink colours, all of them mixing together in a very mesmerizing way. For a minute, I feel like this is a dream. What I have in front of me is breathtaking and printed in my head for a very long time. Everything feels like it’s magical and I feel like I’m a child once again, just for a tiny moment. And I feel free and happy.

I stay sited a few more minutes, still admiring this show, and then I get up and dust the dirt on my clothes. I pick up my bag from the floor and carefully store my sketches inside. If there is one thing that I hate –amongst all the other things that I already despise– is that my drawings are crumpled or that they suffer from folds. They’re my getaway and I need them to be in a perfect shape.

I spent a few hours immersed in my notebook, drawing the teenagers that I saw from where I observed them. The rest of the time was spent in a religious silence, looking around me, and thinking about what will be my life once I’ll leave the familial cocoon to build my own cosy nest.

I like to imagine a future where I won’t feel alone or abandoned, but where I’d be loved for who I am and where I wouldn’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I like to tell myself that I will have friends and a boyfriend, people that will be here for me when I need to just like I would for them.

This is not happening any time soon, I know that, I still have three years of high school, but imagining things help me relax. This is why I’m walking home with light footsteps and a light heart.

When I step a foot on my street, I can see my house on the other end along with my mother’s car. I assume that she and my sister came back home after their shopping spree. I mentally prepare myself for what’s to come and open the front door. No one jumps on my throat and I release a shaky breath that I didn’t know I was holding.

The sound of the television is coming rather loudly from the living room and I instantly know that Evie is watching another of her stupid shows she adores. Right now, there is no trace of my mother or my dad. Loosening up, I slowly make my way to my bedroom. I am however stopped at the bottom of the stairs, when my right foot just got on the first step.

“Not so fast. Where were you?”

Slowly, I turn around. My mother is standing a few feet away from me, hands on her thin hips. Her brown hair curl just above her shoulders and her green eyes stare at me, demanding an answer. What I regret the most is that I look just like her. I have the same face with thin traits, the same eye colour, and the same hair even though our hair colour is slightly different.

“Out.”

“And what were you doing?”

Anger slowly creeps inside of me, slithering like a snake tracking its prey. I try to control it and tightly clench my fists. This scene that is playing in front of me is not new, it happens frequently and I’m usually prepared and don’t care about it. But today, my dear mommy should have avoided it.

“Why do you suddenly care what I’m doing? You made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to have anything to do with me or my life. You were not even here today, for my birthday.”

My voice is calm, my face emotionless. Inside is not the same story but I am mentally congratulating myself for holding back that anger that only wants to cause damages. I won’t let my mother see how much she affects me.

“Jess I’m your mother, it’s my right to know what you’re doing during the day when you’re spending them outside, hanging in the streets.”

I take back what I said about not showing her how much she affects me.

“My mother? My mother?! You’re not acting like a mother should to her kid. You couldn’t care less about me except when you have to reproach something to someone and then, only then you do realise you still have a son. Ever since I told you I was gay you were never a mother to me, never acted like one. So I forbid you to say you are my mother because for me, my mother is dead, she’s six feet under!”

The slap comes so fast that I don’t have time to blink or see it coming. For a moment, a deafening silence is all we can hear, and I even think that the TV is now shut off. I only hear my own panting breath until my mother speaks.

“Go to your room, I forbid you to come out, you won’t have any diner.”

Without a word, I climb the stairs, follow the corridor and shut my bedroom door with much more strength than necessary. I’m not angry, not anymore. No, anger left me; I learnt during those years that anger did nothing against my mother. Sometimes though anger takes control over me, just like it happened moments ago.  
But right now, what I feel isn’t anger or fury. I’m not even disappointed with the turn of events. I’m in a state where I don’t really know what I feel, I’m more numb than anything else. I can’t bring myself to care and to think this is important, that my family is important. After today, I really just can’t do it anymore. Can’t hope that everything will be better with my parents one day, because it won’t and I need to get over it.

I drop my body on my bed and bury my head in my hands. A sigh escapes me, then a second and then a third. Get a hold of yourself Jess, I murmur to myself. I lift my head and scan my room, hoping to find something that will jump out at me and distract me. And that’s what happens.

My eyes settle on my desk, against the wall opposing my bed. A crumpled little sheet of paper is lying in the middle of different textbooks and other unimportant sheets of paper. I get closer to the desk and take the paper between my fingers, weighing the pros and cons. Seven numbers are written down, black ink on white paper; Thomas’ phone number.

I bite my inferior lip. What do I do? Do I call him? Or do I forget everything about that bloody phone number written on that bloody sheet of paper? The said paper mocks me and urges me to dial his phone number. In a furious movement, I scrunch the bloody paper and throw it away in a corner of my room, not looking where it lands.

 

A few hours later, I am languished on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The sun has officially set and darkness is creeping into the room surrounding me with its blackness. I didn’t even try to get up to switch on the light. Why would I do that? What would be the use? I’m not doing anything, I’m not moving, boredom has appropriated my body and I let it, as if I was just so rag doll. It doesn’t bother me.

The lights of the town and the one from the street-lamp just outside my window light the room enough so I can distinguish the outlines of the furniture. Then suddenly, I turn my head and face my window, turning my back on my bedroom’s door. And this is when I spot the creased sheet of paper that lies at the feet of the crimson curtains.

In a sudden impulse I am on my feet and get closer to the window to take the paper. I contemplate it for a handle of minutes then finally decide to call. What do I have to lose? Nothing. If it’s a false number then I would have been right to not have used it before.

With a shaky hand, I grab my phone on the bed and dial the numbers. It rings and it rings for a few moments, dial tones lasting for a while highlighting my stress. As I am about to hang up, I hear Thomas’ bubbly voice.

“-Thomas?  
-Hey Jess buddy! You’re finally contacting me.  
-Erm yeah.”

And really, could I say something else to make me look like a total looser? I don’t doubt the answer. I hear Thomas’ laugh as well as some background noises that I can’t decipher. He must be out with his friends –like he told me– since I can hear some music playing faintly. Eventually, he speaks again, making me avoid another verbal humiliation.

“-To what do I owe this call? He asks voice joyful.  
-Hum... I was wondering if your offer was still up, you know, the one of me meeting your friends?  
-Yes of course, he exclaims. Is tonight OK for you?  
-Erm yeah.  
-Very good, awesome, we’re in the bar Nights’ Out on the big avenue. You know where it is?  
-Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty minutes, more or less.  
-Perfect, absolutely perfect. See you Jessy.”

Thomas hangs up before I can add anything, not that I would have anyway. I imagine him hanging up and loudly telling his friends that the new guy he hangs out with is coming to join them. Shaking my head and smiling, I sigh heavily and run a hand in my hair. I then search for an outfit that is not too horrible to wear.  
In the end I decide to keep the pants that I am currently wearing. It’s black, close fitting and enhances my thighs and my nice buttock. As for the top, I put on a wool navy blue jumper that is big enough for it to hang low on my shoulders, showing off my horrible pale bony collarbones. More or less satisfied with my aspect, I take my phone and wallet that I pocket in my trousers.

I open the window and throw a leg over the window frame. My bedroom is on the second floor of our house and the height that is separating me from the ground isn’t very high, three meters at most. But if I jump from where I am, there is no doubt that my parents will hear me loudly fall on the ground and I really don’t want to deal with any of them right now. Besides with the odds, I’m going to sprain an ankle.

So I throw my other leg and hold onto the gutter. Then I slowly slide to the ground. It only squeaks a couple times as I let myself down to the ground. It’s a success. Without looking back I start running towards the big avenue enjoying the fresh air that whips my face.

Around ten minutes later I spot crouds of people getting in or out bars and night clubs. This avenue is the biggest in town because it lasts for dozens of kilometres and is always full of people partying in bars, night clubs, coffee shops, or getting tattooed. A tiny smile creeps onto my face as I watch people laughing, talking loudly and having fun. For once I feel like I belong somewhere, like I am a normal person surrounded by normal people.

I can faintly see the outline of the bar’s façade which only makes me walk faster, eager to arrive there. When I go to open the door of the bar, it opens before I can reach the handle and a muscular body slams into me. I almost fall on the floor but somehow manage to keep my balance and stay on my feet. I look up with flaming eyes to the person responsible of my almost misadventure, ready to yell at them. However the stranger beats me to it first.

“Can’t you look where you’re going?”

“Excuse me? You’re the one that slammed into me, you moron!”

“Well a kid like you shouldn’t be here.”

I must be dreaming, aren’t I? That man is really rude. There’s no trace of apologizes on his tongue as he looks down at me, feeling superior. I eye him up and down. He’s hot, I give him that but that doesn’t excuse his behaviour –that strangely reminds me of my own rude behaviour towards Thomas when I first met him.

His straight hair is as black as a raven and slide to the side of his face. He’s got piercing blue eyes that fluster me more than I am willing to admit. He is tall, much taller than me that am 5’5. He is taller for a bit more than a head and it’s kind of annoying to have to look up to look at him in the eyes. Even under the leather jacket that he wears I can make out square shoulders and prominent abs.

I mentally chide myself for looking at him that way. My eyes rapidly go back to his face where a smirk appeared. Such a sinful jaw should be forbidden to exist. It makes me want to lick the skin and bite it to leave a mark. Shaking my head I meet the stranger’s eyes.

“Are you planning on staying put on my way?”

I open my mouth but I can’t make a sound. The stranger sneers and pushes me aside, stepping out of the bar and walking away. I can’t help but look at his back. It’s only when he is meters away that I remember how to use my tongue to speak.

“You could have apologized, moron!” I scream loudly enough so he can hear me.

Without hearing it, I notice his shoulders shaking. I know he is laughing at me but I can’t help the smile that grows on my face. I turn away and finally enter the bar.

Decoration is simple, with brown and beige shades. There is a counter on the right when you enter the bar; a shell is hanging on the wall behind filled with different types of alcohol. Multiples tables and chairs are scatter around the place on the left and in the background of the bar. I can easily spot Thomas in the back grinning at me and waving frantically at me. Smiling back I sneak amongst people and get to his table.

Thomas takes me in his arms for a brief embrace then he slaps me on the back and turns around towards his table. I don’t really know what I imagined but I thought that there would be a lot of persons. Instead there is just one guy sitting in front of us and smiling slowly.

He looks to be around twenty years old; he has light chestnut hair with slight blond hair here and there. His fringes fall in his eyes that are the beautiful colour of honey.

“Jess, let me introduce you Alec. Alec this is Jess.” Thomas turns to me. “It’s a shame you only arrived now, Marcus just left!”

He makes an adorable pout and sits on a high stool to be on the same level as the round table. I do the same and take a sit at his left, in front of his friend.

“I thought you had more friends than that.” I say, scrunching my nose in thought.

“In case you forgot, before I saved your life and had to keep an eye on you, you had no one except your little boyfriend that you dumped.”

“Touché.”

Thomas grins and turns to Alec.

“Can you go get me another drink? Please,” he adds, batting his eyelashes in a ridiculous way.

Alec sighs then gets up, messing with Thomas’ hair that groans and bats his hand away. I watch Thomas following Alec’s movements with his sparkling eyes.

“So, you and him are together?”

Thomas turns his head to look at me and shakes his head, putting his hair in the right place.

“No, not at all. Alec is as straight as a pole, definitely not gay. And even if he were, we wouldn’t be in a romantic relationship. He’s like my best friend, my brother.”

I nod and take a look around, taking in everything that I see, imbuing in the warm and cosy atmosphere of the bar. I like it here, I realise as I see people mingling with other people, talking, laughing, and telling stories. A hand on my shoulder brings me back to Thomas. He watches me carefully, seeming somewhat timid.

“I’m glad you called, you know? I’m glad you’re making efforts and try to accept me as your friend. I don’t know what made you changed your mind, but I’m glad it happened.”

“It’s my birthday today,” I blurt out without meaning to.

Thomas raises his eyebrows and slowly straightens in his sit, a grin coming to his face.

“Really? Why didn’t you tell me? Ah, whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he brushes it aside with a wave of the hand. “We have to celebrate. Eh Alec!” He yells at Alec from the other side of the bar. “Bring a drink to Jess too while you’re at it. Thanks!”

“I don’t drink.” I say sheepishly.

“Ever?” He asks eyebrow raised.

“Actually, I’ve never drank alcohol in my life yet.” I say in a timid way.

Thomas smiles kindly.

“This is not a shame. After all, we need a first time to everything.”

I smile back and not long after, Alec comes back with three drinks in his hands. I hadn’t noticed when he was sited but Alec is a freaking giant! I mean, not literally speaking but he really is very massive. I would even say he is taller than the stranger that slammed into me before I entered the bar. I smile a little at this memory then shake my head. Focus Jess, focus.

I make a face when I note that I am the smallest of the three of us. Why do I always have to associate myself with people that are always taller than me? I’m going to grow an inferiority complex if I keep doing that. I just hope that I will keep growing up and that my growth won’t suddenly stop now that I am sixteen years old. I had read somewhere that men’s body kept growing up until they reached twenty-one years old. So I should have a few years to grow and stop being the midget people seem to think of me as. I don’t even have muscles yet.

“To Jess that celebrates his birthday today.” Thomas’ cheerful voice gets me out of my train of thoughts.

“To Jess that I don’t know yet.”

I smile at Alec and thank him and Thomas.

All throughout the evening I learn more about Alec. He is a music student at the College of the town, plays different instruments and is passionate about tattoos and girls. And all throughout the evening, I learn more and more about Thomas and who is he. He is funny –even more so with alcohol embedded in his organic system– and is sarcastic as hell, all the while making sure everyone is fine. Thomas is a caring person and I can see it even more tonight with the way he pays attention to Alec and all the drinks he swallows.

All in all I’m having a good time and I don’t regret a single time sneaking out to join Thomas.

During the night, a bartender comes to us and sets a cocktail in front of me.

“This is for you beautiful.” She says with a wink.

I look at her, confused then eye the drink suspiciously.

“Erm I haven’t ordered anything.”

The bartender points someone with her finger and say, “You didn’t but he did. Enjoy your free cocktail. You’re kinda lucky,” she adds with a sigh, “he’s cute.”

Without further ado, she goes back behind the counter. I look in the direction she pointed and notice a young man staring at me. He raises a hand holding a drink when he sees I’m looking at him. My cheeks redden in embarrassment as I avert my eyes. Thomas whistles and slaps me on the back.

“Well, for your first night out you’re already being offered drinks from strangers. Not so bad, newbie.” He teases elbowing me in the stomach.

“Shut up.” I huff. “What should I do?” I eventually ask.

“Go thank him.” Alec suggests.

“Yeah? You think so?”

He nods, a small smiling tugging at his lips and eyes shining with amusement.

“Go on Don Juan.” Thomas adds.

I roll my eyes at his comment slap his back before he can do it. I hear him groan as I make my way to the man that straightens when he sees me approaching him.

“Hello there cutie.”

His voice is slightly high-pitched but has a granular tone to it that adds up. I don’t shiver when I hear it but I have to admit that this man is attractive. He must be barely older than Mike. He bears stubble on his chin that extends to cheeks. He has ginger hair and his eyes are chocolate brown. There are some freckles here and there, sprinkling his cheekbones and nose.

“Hum, thanks for the drink.”

He smiles and gesture for the sit in front of him.

“Please, sit down.”

I slowly do as I’m told. My eyes scan the bar, not wanting to settle on the man. I’m getting more nervous with each passing second.

“Come on, relax, I’m not going to eat you. Only eat you out if you allow me.”

My jaw drops to the ground, incredulous to what he just said. No one has talked to me so bluntly before. I stare at him wide eyed and mouth opened to its maximum. The man only smirks mysteriously, as if he was holding a secret no one knew except him.

“The name’s Daniel, by the way.” He says when silence lasts for a couple minutes.

“Jess. Hum... I should go back to my friends.”

What am I doing, for God’s sake? A guy rather cute offers me a drink and seems to be attracted to me and what do I do? I’m screwing things up by being my awkward self. Isn’t that what I wanted? Someone to see me as a guy that has needs?

“Stay a little bit more. We can talk.”

The way he says “talk” shows me that he has another plan in mind for later. It makes me blush and I lower my eyes, feeling like a tomato.

“Hum... I’m not- I mean I nev- I’m not legal. I’m still a minor.”

He shrugs as if to say it doesn’t matter to him.

“The age is not important. It’s just a number. And besides, I only just turned eighteen a couple months ago.”

Hearing that, I look up at him. This is what I wished to hear Mike say to me when I wanted him to make love to me. This is what I dreamt for a few weeks now. He and that Daniel guy are the same age, according to Daniel, and whereas one is bothered by the slight age difference, the other doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. A small smile flourishes on my lips as my heart starts beating faster.

“So Jess, tell me about yourself.”

And I do. I tell me things about me without going too far in the details. I don’t know him; he could be a murdered for all I know. I tell him what I like and dislike. He listens to me and from time to time, he interrupts me to share his opinion on something. Then it’s my turn to ask him about him and the discussion never ends. Soon I notice that it’s a little bit over an hour since I joined him. He is nice and I like his company.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” He ends up asking when we pause talking.

I stutter an incoherent answer, stumbling over words. I lower my head and hide behind my hair. I sneak a glance at Thomas and see him laugh with Alec, as if there was no tomorrow.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Daniel says.

I draw my attention back to Daniel then sighs and nods. This is what I’ve been wanting for a while and it’s finally going to happen tonight, so why should I refuse? And besides, Daniel is cute and nice and he listens to me.

“No no it’s OK, alright, I’m in. I’m just going to say bye to my friends.” I say and nod towards my old table.

“I’ll be waiting for you outside then.”

I get up and quickly walk over to Thomas and Alec. Thomas is in the middle of telling a joke but stops when he notices me getting closer to them. He grins a smile that threatens to tear his face in two and frantically waves at me. That kid is not able to calm down, is he? I find myself smiling fondly at him.

“Are you done playing Don Juan?” He questions winking at me.

“Hum... I’m coming to say goodbye.”

He raises his eyebrows, smirking.

“First you ditch me in the middle of the night and now you’re going home with someone else? My heart is wounded and I am dying. Someone, help.”

Alec shakes his head, discreetly laughing but trying to contain his smile from Thomas.

“Stop being an idiot.” He scolds.

Thomas sticks his tongue at him before turning to me.

“I guess we won’t be seeing each other before Monday, are we?”

I shake my head offering him a sorry smile.

“No we aren’t. Bye Alec, it was really nice to meet you.”

It’s true. I thought that the night with Thomas’ friends would be awkward since I don’t know any of them; I thought I would feel out of place but in the end it was pleasant and convivial. I think it was mostly due to the fact that there was only one friend of Thomas. One at a time, I can handle.

Alec smiles and nods. He isn’t much of a talker with people he just met, I noticed. But apart from that, it doesn’t change the fact that he is nice, funny and charming. Thomas makes a funny face and embraces me. I stay with my arms resting at my sides for a second before I slowly raise them to hug him too.

“Well come on go on, go get your man.”

I roll my eyes and say my last goodbye to them then catch up with Daniel in front of the bar. When he sees me, he smiles at me and leads us to a nice sport car. Impressed, I don’t reply and get in the car, enjoying myself with the leather sits. Stylish, I like it.

Daniel drives in a comfortable silence. Soon enough he slows down in front of a fancy building in the rich part of the town. His family must be wealthy; first a sport car, now this? My eyes are big and look up to the building in amazement. I only ever dreamed of going in there, never thought it could actually happen because a guy flirted with me.

The elevator brings us to the last storey of the building. Daniel tells me he doesn’t live in a simple apartment, but in a two-story loft. I’m left speechless and mouth ajar when the doors of the elevator swing open to reveal his loft and an enormous bay window on the wall facing the elevator. Impressive. Very impressive.

“You like it, I suppose?” Daniel asks in a cocky way.

I ignore his tone and just nod, not able to find words. Everything that is in his living room must cost a fortune; from the carpet at the couch’s feet, to the glass coffee table in front of it, to the marble floor where I can almost see my reflection shining, or to the flat screen hanging on the wall in front of the couch. Everything screams “wealth” and I can only stare with wide eyes. Daniel laughs at my astounded expression and guides me to the couch that is big enough to sleep on if you want to.

“Do you want to drink something?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to be drunk and not be completely aware of what is happening –or will happen. I already drank two drinks and my empty stomach deprived of any dinner says no to another drink full of alcohol. I can already feel that light buzz at the back of my head and in my ears.

Daniel joins me on the couch after he poured himself a glass of an alcohol I surely don’t know the name of. He makes conversation for two and I only listen to him with a sympathetic ear. Then we both talk and he asks questions, switching subjects, just like Thomas would. Then when I am in the middle of a reply, Daniel straightens and uses the tips of his fingers to push me slowly until the top of my body is lying on the couch.

“What are you doing?”

He places a digit on my mouth and leans towards me. His lips skim over my own, testing my reaction. When I don’t make a move to end the light kiss, Daniel presses his lips harder and kisses me slowly at first, then with hunger.

My hands slide up his torso to settle at the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair. His own hands travel my sides and go under my jumper, resting on my skin. This is now, I think. I hadn’t planned on losing my virginity that way but it’s not so bad I must say.

I’m a bit nervous to do it for the first time and I fear I won’t be able to relax myself and to screw everything because of my lack of experience; because it is obvious that this is not Daniel’s first time. In the end, it’s probably better this way; at least he will be able to guide me through it, tell me what to do, what is right and what isn’t. It will only just be awkward on my part and it’s better than what I expected.

Slowly, very slowly, our clothes fly in the room, scattering in every corner. Heat between our bodies grows hotter by our bodies pressed against each other and arousal is stronger than before. The palms of my hands are clammy and grip Daniel’s back with strength.

Daniel warms my body, prepares it with his hands, his lips, and his tongue. Prepares it in every way for what is to come. His strokes are sometimes as soft as a feather, sometimes they are rough. Despite the pain that I start to feel, I wriggle beneath him to have more, feel more, always more. And Daniel gives me everything that I want everything that my body desires, he grants me with everything that I ask for and I can’t dream of a better first time than this one.

I feel light-headed and dizzy, intoxicated with all the sensations that float around me. I don’t want it to stop when it hasn’t started yet. Then suddenly I am finally full, every inch of him is inside of me. His body entirely covers mine and not a parcel of my skin is left untouched. I feel hot, surrounded by emotions I didn’t know existed. It’s like a dream.

And despite the pain, despite the burning sensation that I feel, despite the fact that I feel like I’m being stretched and torn in two, despite the few tears that escape my eyes to run down along my face to crash on the couch, a feeling of euphoria washes over my entire being.

Our jerky breaths, the moans that escape from time to time and the skin slapping, sliding, rubbing against skin are the only noises that reach my ears. Everything is suddenly too much. Too hot, too good, too slow, too everything. But at the same, it’s not enough. I miss something, a little je-ne-sais-quoi that would make everything perfect.

The moment is lasting, and then Daniel’s thrusts become erratic, frantic and messy. We are almost reaching our limit, ready to release, but we hold back so the moment can last longer, so we can enjoy everything while it still lasts.

Then the relief is here, finally. It’s mind-blowing, striking and overwhelming. It strikes me right in the face and pours out in my body in a frantic way. My body is shaking with spasms, my breath abruptly stops and my heart misses dozens of beatings before it continues its crazy race in a mad rhythm. My skin is sizzling hot, overly sensitive and clammy. Every sensation is multiplied.

The hot body that soon covers mine immerses me in a deep sleep, soul relieved, satiated and in piece.


	4. Chapter 4

I don’t really know what I thought I would expect throwing away my virginity the way I did, giving it to a stranger that most probably didn’t deserve it. What I know for sure is that my night spent with Daniel doesn’t matter to him. It doesn’t mean anything. And if I’m being totally honest with myself, it doesn’t mean anything to me either.

That is why I collected my clothes one by one, trying to be as quiet as I possibly could, making sure that I wasn’t touching Daniel. I didn’t want to face him, it’d be too awkward now that he was not flirting anymore and that we had sex. I even put my clothes on the stoop of his apartment, putting my shirt backwards, inadvertently. Don’t stick around, don’t cling to him. It was only sex without strings attach.

The house is silent, the lights are out. I pay extra attention to not make any sound as I travel up the stairs and fall on my bed head first, a stupid smile hanging from my lips. Pictures from last night scroll in front of my eyes. Stupidly, I can feel my cheeks heating up and I have to burry my face into my pillow to let out a very girly squeal that I would be ashamed of in any other situation. It’s done. Finally it’s done. I’m not a virgin anymore. I’m just like all the kids my age who hook up with the first person who show an interest in them.

It feels stupid, said like that, but it’s not. To me it’s not stupid. I’m actually quite happy it happened and that I met Daniel the other night. In fact, I’m glad I decided to give a call to Thomas to hang out with him and his friend. Without it, I would still be the same virgin little boy that I was only hours ago. I don’t feel different, though. Just... new. It’s like a new me is about to arise from the ashes of the old me. My skin feels jittery and my heart doesn’t stop beating fast. I can’t stop the smile from spreading so high on my cheeks. It starts to hurt at one point but I just can’t help it. I’m just happy I’ve lost my V-card.

That thought leads me to a light sleep, full of burning strokes on my ardent skin that burns from a desire that is new. I don’t think I will ever stop wanting that feeling to stop.  
A heavy sound resembling a chaos coming from downstairs wake me up with a start. I groan and run a hand against my face as I sigh and get up from my so comfortable place. A new day inside hell is about to begin.

*

So. Being summoned in the headmaster’s office the first day of the week at eight am in the morning is not what I call a good start of the week. I’m nervous as I make my way through the corridors full of happy and sleepy people that don’t need to worry about getting expelled or sent back home for a few days.

A few questions run through my head the more I get closer to the headmaster’s office. What did I do? Has a teacher complained about me? About my behaviour? Or my grades maybe? What if I had done something terrible and they were going to expel me from school. That was the only high school in the town. The other one was about an hour away from here in the next city. I sure as hell didn’t want to go there.

I shyly knock on the door. A gruff and shaggy voice ordered me to come in. I open the door and close it behind me as I take a small step forward. I quickly take a look around me and notice the awards on the desk next to the window behind the headmaster, as well as some diplomas hanging on the dull brown wallpaper. A clock is loudly ticking on my left, hung high on the wall.

My eyes are glued to the floor and I can feel my shoulders being hunched slightly forward, in weak position. To show one’s weaknesses to a tawny vulture it’s be its next meal of the day, nonetheless... Nonetheless that’s what I am doing.

Mr. Nicolson is not a bad person. He may seem terrifying with his broad shoulders; his strict features of his face; his eyes like a falcon that follows your every move and his a bit protruding belly. But his looks don’t mean anything. He is endowed with kindness towards everyone and his gruff voice may alert you that he is about to snap, he never does. So maybe the fear that is clinging to my stomach is not legitimate, maybe I should stop to think everyone wants something bad to happen to me, maybe I shouldn’t be that anxious in front of someone who seems strict and unkind but is the exact opposite. Our headmaster is impartial and he knows what to do in the most complex of situation. He always has the right word to say to anyone.

“Mr. Marshall, please take a seat.”

I obey in silence and sit down on the worn out brown chair.

“You surely know why I summoned you in my office at this early hour of the day?”

I shake my head, staying silent. I don’t trust my voice not wavering.

“It turns out that here in Belleville High we follow our students very closely. We observe every grade of them, every down fall and every improvement. You are, Mr. Marshall a bit too young to go to university but the fact is that Eastern International College of Jersey City has found a certain interest in the outcome of your grades for a few years now.”

I gape at him, not able to form any word. It’s... surprising. I was not expecting that at all when I was told I had to see the headmaster. It’s kind of chocking in a way. Who knew I had it in me to do something with my life?

“That’s... good. Really good. But I don’t think my parents would have the money to pay for it.”

It’s more that I think my parents would agree to spend a crazy amount of money on me. Even if it’s to study. I don’t care, really. I don’t want to owe them anything.

“Jersey City’s dean had made a lot of research amongst our students, even the youngest, to evaluate their capacities. If you maintain your grades the way they are right now during the next three years, you have great chances to have a full scholarship to whatever field you want to study.”

“A f-full scholarship?”

It gets very interesting. It makes me stutter on my words as my hands start to shake. I play with the sleeves of my shirt to try and discipline them. It’s a lost cause.

I’m getting mad at myself for reacting that way, really, but this is an incredible opportunity that I would have never dreamed of before. For the last three years, I buried myself in my school work while I tried to forget my reality and all the trouble caused by my parents. And now, to see that all my work and all my relentlessness could actually lead me somewhere, it’s a victory. A beautiful victory to be rewarded for something I did on my own. A beautiful victory that makes me proud of myself.

Of course, I would be the only one to be proud of myself, but honestly, who cares? Not me. With a full scholarship then I won’t owe anything to my parents and I would leave their house forever and never return. I’d get a job to pay for food and a place to stay and I would be free. Free of any trouble.

“A full scholarship, yes,” smiles Mr. Nicolson. “Becoming valedictorian would increase your chances at getting that scholarship. It would show the dean how serious you are about studying in their university.”

“Valedictorian? But I never thought of becoming a member of the student body president or valedictorian. That’s not for me. I’m not good at giving speeches in front of a crowd.”

“Listen here. You have the possibility to pass in AP classes in maths, English, history, science and chemistry,” he says as he reads over a paper he has displayed in front of him.  
“You should also take options that would give you credits. I suggest you take advantage to what’s in front of you to reach. Not many students have the possibility to have a full scholarship. This is a huge opportunity.”

“So I would have to work twice as hard, will I?”

“Indeed. But keep in mind that in the end there is a full scholarship waiting for you. If you invest yourself enough in your school work then no doubt you will obtain it. Jersey City will offer two full scholarships and two half scholarship. Some students know that and work for it. This is a great chance for you, Mr. Marshall. Moreover, I will give a positive opinion of you so this should help.”

I nod but stay speechless. This is crazy. Completely mental. Never in a million years would I have dreamt of something like this happening to me. I must be dreaming, it’s not possible otherwise.

There is actually a future looming before me and it’s exciting, exhilarating. I had always wanted to build myself a future on my own with my own bare hands without owing anything to anyone and now a golden opportunity was standing in front of me and I just had to reach out with my hand to touch it, grab it and make it mine. It’s a one life time thing that won’t happen again, I know that and it makes me even more anxious to not be able to cope with the amount of work I will have to provide.

I want to believe in it, want to believe it is actually possible for me to obtain that full scholarship and get away from home. I know I would still be in the same town as them, there would still be a possibility of us meeting in a shop but it didn’t matter. At the moment, it doesn’t matter at all. All that matters is to think about the future, to think that I can have a future, one that I want.

“Alright, yes. I accept to take AP classes. As for the options, I was thinking about art and creative writing. No sport though, I’m too clumsy for that and would end up hurt.”

Not to mention the fact that crossing path with Fred outside of corridors would be a torture for my body that’d become his daily punching ball. More than it already was. Our encounters in the corridors are enough for me, I’m not a masochist, I don’t want to inflict myself more pain.

“Very well.”

Mr. Nicolson writes down for a few minutes while I wait in silence. I look outside the window to the grey sky where the sun wants to shine through. My fingers start to play with my sleeves one more time and I just let them. Once he’s done, he gets up and I mimic him.

“Good, I’m going to notify my secretary and she will do all the necessary registrations for your new classes. After that you will be able to go to your classes.”

“Alright, thank you sir.”

He hands me his hand and I shake it, hoping that he doesn’t notices my clammy hands. If he does, he doesn’t say anything. I feel like I just had a job interview that ends up with a promise of work. The thought makes me laugh slightly and I feel the inquisitive stare of the headmaster linger on me but I ignore it as best as I can. Fortunately for me, he doesn’t comment on that.

The next few minutes I spend them with the secretary that changes my schedule on the computer. We make small talk, mostly about the classes I’m going to take. It’s nice, not to feel lonely sometimes. Just sometimes, though.

Now, most of my classes will be with juniors. I find myself wondering if I will be in any of Thomas’s classes but I shake my head and get rid of that thought. That’s really not the most important right now. Mr. Nicolson made me understood how important it was that I focus on my grades and school work. He basically said that the key to success is to work, work, work and I plan on doing just that and snatch that scholarship. This is my only chance if I don’t want to spend the rest of my life working as a barista or in a supermarket.

“There it is sweetie.” The secretary says as my new schedule is released from the printer.

I thank her and don’t linger in there any longer. Places to be, people to see, all that.

The corridors are empty and silence is good on me and calm down my internal freak out. This is all going to be well. But I can’t help but feel like it’s the calm before the storm comes. This is a ridiculous thought. I shake my head and laugh. I’m being stupid.

I throw a glance at my schedule that tells me I now have AP history as my second hour of the day. I take a deep breath and empty my lungs, repeating the process a few times before going to my class.

When I enter the classroom, I hand my ticket written by the secretary to the teacher. He reads it rapidly, nods then tells me to go sit down with a jerk of his head. I’m grateful he doesn’t make me introduce myself. I wouldn’t have been paralysed to do so. But after all, I’m not a new student.

Students present in the classroom ignore me as I choose a vacant seat in the middle of the room. Some of them talk amongst them, deliberately ignoring the teacher who tries to teach them; others –and I don’t make any judgment at all even though it’s really difficult; the jokes– throw balls made of paper on the students seated at the front row and have fun being the clown of the class; others sleep or listen to their IPod not even trying to be discreet and others are wasting time on their phone.

None of their faces is familiar to me. I ignore if it’s reassuring or not. Most of my other classmates in my year avoided me as if I had the Plague. The oldest ones in the school ignored me because to them, I was just a sophomore and nothing else, nothing in the school social ladder. Only Fred and his little friends took the time to bully and torment me. But somehow I’m happy I’m only a sophomore. Because that way I can only take junior’s classes which prevent me from being in any of Fred’s classes and his crew.

The seat I chose is has the window on my right. I have a view on the street on the other side of the campus. It makes me want to escape through the window and go far away to start my new life. But for that, I need to pay attention to what the teachers say all the time and work hard. I already did it once before, I can do it again now. It’s not that complicated to dive into your school work if you’re organized. And if it ensure me a better and happier future then who am I to deny myself that?

*

I spent the entire day immersed in my books, taking notes in every class I had and trying to participate in class. I don’t think my new classmates really appreciate me. They must probably think that I’m some teacher’s pet who does everything in order to be loved by teachers. That’s not true, but they don’t need to know that since they don’t make the effort to introduce themselves to me or just talk to me. I don’t give a darn about what they might think of me. It doesn’t matter to me what their opinion can be.

I have a few difficulties with language class. French is too hard for me and pronunciation is even more complex. But I don’t give up. On the contrary, I asked my teacher to give me some advice to do my homework and the nice lady offered to give me an extra teaching lesson after class three times a week. It’s cool, great even.

Thomas is in none of my new classes, but I strangely don’t linger on that fact for too long. I don’t know him that well after all and even though I had a great night with him and that Alec guy, it doesn’t changes anything. I’m better on my own, really. Loneliness is what kept me alive for three years and I like to be alone most of the time. So too many sudden changes are not that great for me.

At lunch time, as I rounded a corner, I make out the tall imposing figure of my good ol’ friend Fred. I spin around quickly but unfortunately for me, I trip over my own feet and fall to the floor, crushing my chin in the process. My upstairs teeth slam against the ones below and I accidently bite on my tongue. I groan and roll over. This is unpleasant, it hurts and the sound of teeth against teeth seems to drag on forever and ring up until it reaches my skull.

“Can’t you walk straight Marshall? Oh right, you can’t! You’re gay.”

Fred laughs, proud of himself for his lame joke and I wait for his followers to laugh but as I glance at him, no one is standing behind him. I look at him, impassive. Today, he’s alone. He’s without his hoard of little doggies ready to serve his every wish. It’s rather odd to see him like this, alone. It doesn’t stand with the guy I learnt to know in spite of myself. Of course, he is not alone like me and I’m pretty sure that he was the one to dismiss his “friends” but it still makes me feel strange. It’s unusual and things seem to keep changing today. As if everyone played the charade game and told the others to put the world upside down. I’m not sure if I appreciate it or not.

Routine is nice. It’s something easy to do every single day. I like my routine, it’s a safe bet. It will never fail me and will never change. However today, I don’t have a routine anymore. She is smashed to pieces, shattered in thousands of pieces scattered around the globe.

“Shut up.” I grumble.

I don’t feel like fighting with him today. Our last encounter, last Friday, has not gone well at all now that I recall it. I spat on his face, for God’s sake!

Fred smirks as if he had just read my thoughts about our last meeting and he knew exactly why my face had suddenly gone white and pale as if I was sick.

“You’re not saying anything today? How surprising. I note that Reyes isn’t here to save your ass. Good for me.”

I look for a way out with my eyes but find none. When I got up from the ground, I put distance between Fred and I and got closer to the wall. Now my back touches the wall and I can’t take another step back. There is the door leading to the cafeteria on my right, a little far away but I would never get there on time for Fred to miss out on catching up with me to give me a beating.

“I’m sorry I spat on you. Really. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“Maybe I could forget that incident if you did my homework for a couple weeks.”

“Sorry? Who did you take me for? You’re slave perhaps?”

Fred raises his eyebrows and take a step forward, only leaving a meter of space between us. He could easily reach out with his long arm and attack me but he probably prefers to wait and mentally torture me. That’s his favourite game. I am pretty angry at him but fear outweighs the anger easily, stopping me from moving even one eye lash.

“You don’t seem so sorry all of a sudden, Marshall. Maybe I should teach you a lesson so you understand that you owe me respect.”

“Really? You’re the one talking about respect when you have none for me and beat me every chance you get. Don’t you think you’re fucking kidding me right now?”

I try to stay as polite as I can be but he’s getting under my nerves. As if to provoke me more, Fred sneers and makes another step forward, reducing the space that separates us.

“You know you’re my exception.”

“I feel really flattered of your interest in me but I am not interested in you so back off.”

Any trace of humour is gone from Fred’s features. I see his jaw getting clenched as he clenches his hands into fists. The salient vein on his neck is getting more visible with each breath he takes as he is on the verge of the explosion.

“What did you just say?”

“In addition to being gay, you’re slow to understand? Well, it must something with your classes.”

In a flash, Fred has got me pinned to the wall, an arm resting against my throat while the other hand take a fierce grip on my shirt. I try to regulate my heart beat but it’s impossible. I’m quite scared of what he is about to do to me.

I’m not usually this mean but he deserved it. I don’t regret what I said but I regret that Fred is a bully who chose me as his target.

“You think you’re being funny?” He viciously asks, squinting his eyes at me.

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

This seems to enrage him more. Internally cursing myself, I wriggle to try and break free from his death grip on me. It’s a lost cause though.

“You know I am going to find it amusing to paint you a new face.”

On these words, Fred launches a punch at me, aiming right for my rib, making me moan from the pain that instantly arises in my abdomen. He has a lot of strength. If only he could keep that strength for when he plays lacrosse then that would be great.

“You don’t have to do that you know. Nothing compels you to it.”

“You’re wrong. Actually, you compel me.”

Fred spends a few minutes beating me. Despite this, I try to escape his grip but I still can’t. I just protect my face as best as I can and fortunately no punch gets thrown at my face.  
Besides having an aching ass, I will have an aching top of the body. As if it wasn’t enough. I groan when a particular strong punch lands on my sternum. My breath gets stuck in my throat and I cough a few times to try and shake that feel out of me.

Fred steps away from me and I have to lean against the wall to stay upright and not fall to the ground.

“Maybe I too should spit on you.”

I look up at him and defy him with my eyes. He is yet to do anything. He just stays there, watching me, feeling superior.

“What are you waiting for then? Do it.”

II provoke him. I don’t know why I do, but I provoke him. Maybe if I do that, I imagine that Fred will leave me alone and will stop bully me. Maybe I hope he will notice that I am not just a simple wimp. I’m not looking for his approval or any of those sorts of things, and I’m not trying to satisfy my wish to please people. Only, I wish he would stop hassle me every time he sees.

“Is this another one of your fetishism? To have another guy’s spit on you?”

He doesn’t show anything else but disgust. I give him back his glare and straighten myself, a hand pressed against my stomach.

“If it’s your thing, know that I’m not into that at all so find someone else to satisfy that little fantasy of yours.”

Fury is once again on Fred’s face, making his brown irises light up with fire. He seems to be constantly angry –and it always seems to be against me though I don’t see any reason why he would be angry at me. I don’t know what I did for him to be desperately tormenting me more than the other kids. At least he didn’t throw them in the bin as if they were nothing more than garbage; at least he didn’t flush their heads in the toilets.

“Stop with your suggestions! I’m not the one who’s gay.”

“Though you seem very interested in what I like and what I’m into. You know it’s not a flaw; you don’t have to hide it.

“Like you, you mean?”

I am confused for a little while. I don’t hide the fact that I am a homosexual but I don’t shout it from the rooftops either. Seeing my confusion refusing to leave my face, Fred laughs, a laugh that sends chills down my spine.

“What are you on about?”

He starts to walk backwards, still with that glow of mischief shining in his eyes.

“You know that little video of you that navigates on the web.”

“What? What video?”

I still am puzzled and more confused than before. I don’t understand Fred’s innuendos. He takes another step back and on the spur of the moment, I decide to follow him as he reaches the corner and disappears from my view.

“What do you mean? Fred!”

He sighs loudly, making it clear that I annoy him but I don’t care. He can’t just drop a bomb like that and not explain further what he means. He stops and turns to me.

“I mean,” he says slowly as if he was talking to a three year old kid, “the cute little video of you being fucked that circulates on the Internet.”

I lose my breath in my throat as I feel my head start to spin and stars dancing in front of my eyes. I barely manage to say “what?” before I stumble over and Fred has to put an arm on mine to keep me steady.

“You know, by that freaking rich guy that fucks you on his couch.”

The world seems to stop for a moment before it continues to live. It spins and spins faster around me, my eyes aren’t able to settle on anything and soon I feel my legs becoming numb and I fall to the ground. My lungs are being constricted as air refuses to enter them. I feel odd, out of place, as if I didn’t belong in my body any more, as if my body was here in the corridor but my mind was somewhere else, sailing around the world escaping what was happening.

I don’t blink, I don’t move. My mouth is hanging wide open but no sound escapes and no air enters. I know I’m in a state of shock. My ears buzz, I can’t hear anything else but that dreadful sound that makes me deaf for a moment. My eyes are lost off in the distance.

Then finally, what I was told makes its way to my brain and I start hyper ventilating. My hands are shaking. No. My whole body is shaking.

How is it possible? How a video of my –a video of my first time having sex– could have ended up on the Internet? How someone could have filmed that intimate act in the first place? Why would Daniel do that?

A slap falls on my cheek and pulls me back from that torpor.

“Oi Marshall. Jess. It’s not the end of the world.”

And then, as suddenly as I lost words, they are coming back, flooding my mouth. I glare at Fred from my spot on the floor but make no move to stand up.

“Not the... not the end of the world?” (I nervously laugh.) “Are you kidding me right now? Jesus...”

Fred brutally catches me from under my armpits and lifts me until I am steady on my two feet. He rolls his eyes at me and steps back.

“It’s just a video. I may have over exaggerated a bit. We can’t see your face very well.”

“Because you think this is reassuring me? Bloody hell. Why are you being so nice all of a sudden? What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything. I’m just pitying you is all.”

“The big bad Fred Astor has a heart? Who would’ve believed?”

“Shut up I can still beat you up and send the video to everyone.”

“Then come go ahead, suit yourself! It’s already surprising that you haven’t done it yet.”

I seethe and start to pace from left to right. Every now and then, I run a hand through my hair, pulling them hard with my fingers in a frustrated gesture. Fred is leaning against the wall in front of me, his arms crossed on his chest. He seems to be bored but I could care less. Why is he staying here anyway? Why is he keeping me company as I freak out?

“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have kids to bully?”

“Oh I do. But they can wait an hour or two. I rather watch you gnaw at your nails. It’s much more amusing.”

“You’re a real dick, you know that right?”

Fred laughs and shrugs. He never cares what people think of him. I have no idea how he does it and if I’m being completely honest with myself, I am sort of jealous of him. I wish to be able to walk head high in the corridors just like he does all the time.

The bell rings. I briefly close my eyes and then make my way to the third floor where there are all the classrooms for the options classes. I however can’t make another step as a hand has latched onto my forearm.

“What do you want Fred?” I ask in annoyance.

When I turn around, it’s not Fred I face but Mike. He has that pitying expression display on his features and when I didn’t mind with Fred, it annoys me with Mike.

“Are you alright?”

I furrow my eyebrows as I nod, not wanting to verbally answer him.

“It’s just, I saw the video.”

Bloody hell! Has everyone in this bloody school seen that freaky video of me getting fucked? My nostrils flare with anger as I try to contain myself from bursting out at him.

“You are all pissing me off. Is that clear enough now?”

I disentangle myself from his grip and stomp away. I know I’ve been unfair to Mike but I don’t care. It’s my private life we’re talking about! I’d like to keep it that. I am done with people coming into my life without being invited beforehand.

*

My afternoon classes consist of my options: art and creative writing. So I allow myself to drift off to my thoughts and not pay attention. I keep thinking of that damn video which I fear, will make my life a living hell. It was already a mess but now, it’s going to be worse. Especially if the kids at school know about it. I can just pray that Fred won’t tell his little doggies and that they won’t come out at me.

Fortunately I don’t have French tutoring with Miss D until the next day so when the last bell rings, I hastily go out of the classroom and of the school building. I don’t bother being polite and push out of my way the students that are too slow. I have to find Thomas real fast. He is not in the hall and I don’t see him outside either. So I speed up to the students’ parking lot.

I think I make out his blond mane of hair and loudly call him. He turns around and smiles at me, waving his hand in the process. In a few strides I am next to him.

“Hi Jess, how are you?”

“I need you to drive me somewhere please.”

Thomas’s smile fall a little and a contrite pout appears.

“I crashed my car in a pole yesterday, it’s at the garage. It’s Marcus that brought me here this morning.”

“It’s very important. Please...”

I don’t know why I beg him. He no longer has a car, I get that but I think that deep inside I hope that Thomas will be able to take me where I need to go before I lose my head and lash out to anyone.

“Who’s Marcus anyway?”

“That’s me.”

A deep low voice with melodious inclinations is been heard from behind. I start and turn around a hand on my heart to the person who just scared me. Yet when I was about to raise my voice, I am speechless. Once again. That’s Thomas’s Marcus?

The man smirks and raises an eyebrow.

“You’re not saying anything this time? Astounding.” He says with his deep, deep voice.

“Jess let me introduce you my friend Marcus. Marcus this is Jess.”

“You’re a real prick, you know? I’m still waiting for an apology.”

I cross my arms on my chest and lift my chin in order to make me look impressive. I am slightly annoyed that I have to raise my head to look at him and I think he knows that since he hasn’t stopped smirking since the beginning of our conversation. He looks less than impress and his brow is still high up on his forehead, disappearing behind his long black hair styled on the right side of his forehead. Thomas cackles as silently as he can.

“Do you already know each other?” He asks, coughing to get rid of his chuckle.

“No we don’t. Kiddo here ran into me as I exited the bar last Friday.”

“Who are you calling kiddo? I’ll let you know you’re the one who almost made me fall with your endless chest and your long legs.”

“Marcus is not really polite, but he apologies.”

“Does he really?” I send a look at Thomas, letting him know that I didn’t believe him for a second. That kind of guy wasn’t the type to apologize, I could feel it.

“He will prove it. By driving you where you need to go. Alright Marcus?”

Marcus groans a sound of protest but one look from Thomas and he huffs, turning on his heels. He sighs and goes straight over a big black range rover, shining under the sun that finally pierced the clouds. Nice car.

“Get in the car.” He says sounding gruff.

Thomas silently tells me to ignore it as he climbs on the passenger seat. I climb on the back seat of the car and admire the leather of the seats, trailing my fingers over it. I’m quite impressed by the car. Not the owner of the car though.

“Where do you need to go?” Thomas asks, turning in his seat to look at me.

“Towards Crosslane, the rich neighbourhood. The highest building of that area.”

His eyebrows furrow as Marcus starts driving.

“What will you do there?”

“I have some unfinished business to handle.”

I feel my features are dark and a storm could be seen in my eyes but I don’t try to change anything. I had forgotten for a moment why I was so mad. It is so easy to speak with Thomas; he is so easy going that I forget about my problems in a blink of an eye.

“What’s going on?”

Shaking my head, I lower my eyes to make him understand that I don’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t seem to know about the video and I really want to keep it that way. I don’t want people I know –and people I don’t for the matter– to be aware of that video of me, video I didn’t know existed only hours prior. I feel like Thomas is becoming a friend, a good friend and even if I enjoy been alone, I don’t want to make him run away from me because I was stupid enough to go home with the first stranger that showed an interest in me. I feel ashamed enough already.

“There’s a video of him getting it in the ass on the web. That’s why you need to go there, isn’t it?” He says, glancing at me from the rear-view mirror.

“You’re an ass Marcus!” Thomas shouts, kicking him in the shoulder.

I turn my head to the window and look at the landscape we drive past. I feel humiliated by a person I don’t know and who doesn’t know shit about me who however judges me for something that is not my fault! Because even if I was stupid to go home with Daniel, I didn’t choose to film us and I didn’t choose to post it on the Internet. Heck I didn’t even know about that until Fred told me. Fred of all people!

The tears gather behind my closed eyelids and I do everything that I can in order to keep them in. I don’t need to cry in front of them. I don’t need Thomas to see me as a weak person. And I don’t need to give that Marcus guy a reason to tease me even more.

“Don’t listen to him Jess, he’s an asshole with everyone he doesn’t know.”

“I may be, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.”

He gets hit in the shoulder again. Marcus reaches out to hit Thomas but misses him.

“Don’t add anything, Marcus Sam Knight. He already feels awkward enough.”

“He’s right.”

The fight abruptly halts. I can feel Thomas’s gaze on me but I don’t turn the head to look at him. I’m too ashamed to admit it aloud to myself and then to him. He must look at me with disgust and pity and I can’t stand that kind of look right now.

“Jess...” He whispers.

“Don’t okay? Don’t say anything.”

He stays silent for a moment, just staring at me. The car gets closer to the central building of Crosslane and I can feel my heart beating faster.

“I shouldn’t have let you go home with him. That’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

“Stop talking rubbish.”

Anger arises in me and ignites my veins. I was too stupid to think a man could have an interest in me that way and I paid the price. Why would anyone want me? I’m just a kid.

“But it’s true! I was the one to urge you to go out with me, I was the one to push you to that guy, I was the one who told you to get that man and go home with him. This is my entire fault.”

He is stubborn. Nearly as much as me. It makes me smile. Only for a moment though.

“Stop that Thomas. I’m already ashamed you don’t need to add anything.”

“But you don’t have to be ashamed Jess! Were you the one who filmed you guys? No it wasn’t. So don’t be ashamed. That guy is a bastard that will soon know what I think!”

I shake my head and finally meet his gaze for the first time since the bomb was dropped. There is a rage in his blue eyes but no hints of pity. I relax and feel better in a second.

“You’re not coming with me. It’s my problem not yours.”

“You’re going to let him off the hook I know you.” He accuses.

“No. You don’t know me. So don’t assume things about me.”

Thomas shuts up and faces forward. Great. It’s only the beginning of aggros. The car stops in front of the building and I get out fast, not waiting for Thomas to say anything. I don’t take the time to thank them, not feeling like it.

I glance at the huge building that almost reaches the skyline and I suddenly feel very small, like a midget. I’m not extraordinary tall but right now, it’s as if I don’t exist. Taking an intake of breath, I move forward.

“I hope you have the code to access the elevator otherwise you will never be able to do your little vendetta.”

“What are you doing here?” I groan.

Marcus lifts an eyebrow and opens the door leading to the hall of the building. He doesn’t let it open for me and as I step forward, the door closes on my face. I curse, rubbing my nose and enter the building, glaring at Marcus’s back. What the hell is he doing here anyway?

“You forbade Thomas to come, not me.”

Furious, I run up to him –his long endless legs allowing him to take big steps unlike mine– and give him a hit on the should with my arm. Because he is so tall my shoulders only reach the middle of his upper arms.

“It was worth for you too, obviously. I don’t know you and the only times we talked you were been an ass to me.”

Marcus doesn’t say anything. It makes my blood boiling but I follow him to the elevator and type in the digital code to have access to it. Once in, I push on the button that will lead us to the last floor of this gigantic building.

Now that I think about it, I don’t know what I’m going to say to Daniel. No matter what happens, I must not cry. I must not show any sign of my weakness, only show anger and fury. That’s it. Otherwise it would feel like he has won and I can’t accept it.

The doors finally open on the luxurious loft of Daniel. My gaze is as soon attracted towards the sofa in the middle of the living room, in front of the television and next to the big window. The place where I lost my V-card, the place where everything began, the place that now is only a nightmare.

I don’t need to call Daniel. He is seated on the red bar stool in his modern kitchen on the other side of the living room, on the left of the elevator. When he hears the ding sound of the doors opening and closing, he lifts his head from his cocktail and smiles as his eyes land on me.

“Jess! What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”

“You’re a cunt, an asshole, a fucking jerk! A bastard that takes advantage of others.”

Well. In regard to keep my anger under control, I’m not doing a very good job. I march over to him quickly and stand in front of him. I want to hurt him. To hurt him as much as I can. My fists are tightly clenched and dream to knock that smile off his face.

“What are you on about cutie?”

A chill of disgust ride up my spine when he says the pet name he assigned me with the night we met. I feel like I’m just a rag doll in his hands when he calls me that. And that is not a pleasant feeling at all. On the contrary, it’s degrading.

“He talks about the video you put online, asshole. The one where you’re fucking him.”

Daniel draws his attention to Marcus and laughs. There is nothing funny. I glare at him but he doesn’t see me, he eyes Marcus up and down as if he thought he was dirt and he was superior to us.

“You already moved on, cutie? Is this your boyfriend?”

“He’s a jerk. Just like you. But still less than a jerk than you. Why did you take a video of us?”

“Why not?”

He sips on his drink and in a frustrated act; I take it from him and throw it to the floor. I watch the glass shatter to a million pieces, scattering all around the kitchen and falling along the three stairs that lead to the leaving room. Just like my heart did when I learnt about the video.

“This is not an answer! You knew it was my first time having sex with someone, you knew that I was slightly scared so why did you do that? Why did you film us?”

My voice rises gradually until I end up shouting right in his face. I can’t control myself, can’t control the anger that’s eating me inside out.

“Calm down cutie. It’s just a video. We barely see your face.”

“You are a shithead and I hope you will rot in hell.”

Daniel laughs as if I had made a brilliantly funny joke. It gets on my nerve even more.

“Oh oh cutie bites.”

“I’m going to press charges against you. You know what they do to paedophiles in prison.”

“And with what proof will you do that? You have no proof that I was the one to film us and to post the video. Maybe I was tricked myself?”

The helplessness feeling that creeps onto me is so powerful that I stumble on my feet and collide with Marcus’s hard chest. This is hopeless. Shame overwhelms me and tears  
threaten to fall from my eyes if I’m not careful. I want a hole to swallow me and kill me.

“You should be ashamed of yourself for doing this.”

“Oh cutie, sorry to break it to you, but the one who’s ashamed here is you. And it’s not enough for you to hit me.”

I can’t stop the tears from falling as I turn on my heel.

“You know, I don’t care about hitting your sorry face.”

I turn just in time to see Marcus blowing a punch that hits Daniel square in the face. I don’t say anything, surprised by his action.

We’re silent as the elevator gets down. Marcus respects my tears and I am grateful for that. I wouldn’t be able to stand it if he were to talk to me about what happened.

He speaks however when the doors open. “You should watch out for the strangers you meet in bars.”

“So I have to watch out for you.”

I sniff and walk fast to the car. Thomas is waiting, pacing in front of the car and when he sees me he runs up to me to give me a hug. My tears redouble as I cling on his shirt with my fists. I feel so stupid. So, so stupid.

From the corner of my eyes I see Marcus watching us, seated behind the wheel of his car. I can’t make out the expression he wears but I don’t care, we just stare at each other. With my eyes, I thank him for what he did, for punching Daniel even though I don’t understand why he did that. He had absolutely no reason to do so yet he did. And I can’t help to think that maybe he did it for me, for my honour.

“Come on, we’re going to my house.”

Thomas opens the for me and he slides in the backseat next to me. I don’t say anything but I am thankful. Thankful that he stays with me. Because right now, I don’t feel like being alone.

“Thank you.”

Thomas collide his shoulder with me.

“It’s nothing. I told you, you’re my friend now. And friends are sacred; they help and rely on each other.”

I give him a tentative smile and knock my shoulder with him too.

“Is that why Marcus punched Daniel? Because I’m your friend and you’re his?”

Thomas looks at me in a weird way and is silent for a moment. His brows are furrowed and he doesn’t move. Then suddenly he comes to life again and looks at me.

“Um... I don’t know. I don’t think so. Marcus is not the kind of guy to just punch people for someone he don’t know. Not even if they’re a friend of a friend. You must have left a good impression on him when you guys met.”

I scoff and roll my eyes.

“I highly doubt that. He kept making fun of me for no reason at all.”

Thomas chuckles and the sound draws a smile on my face.

“You guys know I can hear you, don’t you?”

Marcus’s voice is deep, falsely annoyed. A thrill runs up and down my spine as our eyes meet in the mirror. Green against blue. I had almost forgotten that Marcus was a very, very fit guy, a hot and gorgeous one. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the fourth chapter. Jess finally meets Marcus! Not proof read


	5. Chapter 5

Thomas’ house is big. Bigger than mine, that’s for sure. It must probably be too big for him and his parents only. Sometimes, Thomas must feel so alone, maybe just as much as me. Maybe. I wouldn’t know how he feels, he doesn’t seem sad. In fact he’s smiling all the time but maybe, just like me, it hides a deep wound he is not ready for the world to know.

“Do you want to come inside Marcus?”

“I have to go back to work. I’ll come tomorrow morning to give you a ride to school.”

Thomas gives him a pointed stare, one that I don’t know the meaning of. But it makes Marcus sigh loudly, glaring at Thomas before he turns in his seat to face me.

“Do you need a lift to school as well tomorrow morning?” He asks in a bored voice.

I glance at Thomas who is already staring at me without blinking, a shit-eating grin like the Cheshire cat. I suddenly understand that it was more out of courtesy that Marcus proposed to take me to school as well. A bit disappointed, I look up to Marcus who is awaiting an answer, eyebrows raised.

“Oh um, that’s nice of you but it’s usually my mom that takes me and my sister to school.”

“What a shame:”

It lookes like Thomas was pouting like a five year old boy that wouldn’t have gotten the new toy he desperately wanted. I smile at that and poke him in the ribs, earning a loud yelp from him as he tries to stand up but ends up banging his head on the roof of the car. I let out the laugh I was trying to hold in and Thomas glares at me as he rubs his poor head.

“See you tomorrow Thomas.” Marcus says.

He’s ushering out of his car with a nod of his head. It’s actually an order but Thomas only shakes his head with a smile. He leans in between the two front seats and gives a loud peck on Marcus’ cheek before exiting the car.

“Come on Jess.” He says happily.

I glance one last time at Marcus. He is staring outside the windshield, making it his mission to not look me in the eyes.

“So um. Goodbye, I guess. And um... thank you. About earlier. With Daniel.”

Marcus’s knuckles whiten as he clenches his fists around the steering wheel. His eyes are still set on the windshield and it would have been as if he hadn’t heard me if he hadn’t clenched his hands. He speaks in a low constipated voice:

“No worries.”

I frown, wait another second then get out of the car sighing and close the door behind me. Marcus starts the car a second later and speeds off in the distance while I watch the car disappear around the corner, feeling an odd tugging at the heart. What?

Thomas smiles at me when I get to him and puts his arm around my shoulder. We enter his house and I gasp at how big it really is. The roof is so high in the air that a giant could actually stand in the hall. There is a statue a few feet away from the door just in front of a beautiful white marble staircase that takes up the whole place. There is a door on the left next to the stairs and further on the right is what I think to be a living room.

“You’re house is so big.” I say dreamily.

I would like to live in a house like this when I have my own family. It would be nice I’m sure, to have a dog running around the place while a kid is chasing him. Really nice, I think while stars are dancing in front of my eyes.

“You think?” Thomas says bringing me back to present day. “I think it’s quite common. I mean, it’s a house. Anyway I don’t spend a lot of time in here.”

“Why is that?” I can’t help but ask.

“Oh you know, I don’t have any sibling so the house gets kind of lonely to live in when my parents are at work. And unfortunately they spend most of the time at work or in another city. I don’t mind really, I have Alec and Marcus with whom I spend all my time. I like it better this way anyway.”

I detect a hint of sadness in his voice but when I look at him again, Thomas is smiling so big his white teeth are showing. Maybe it was my imagination.

“Let’s go upstairs, yeah? My room is much better than this house you’ll see.”

We climb the stairs to get in his room on the second floor (yes his house is big like that). It strikes to me as soon as I enter his bedroom that this is the most personal room of this house. I saw a glimpse of the living room as we were climbing the stairs and what I saw was very neat. I’m not saying that Thomas’ bedroom isn’t neat, because it is. It’s just that it’s not all white and perfect. The walls are painted in light blue and grey with hints of black here and there. There is a chandelier hanging from the roof that is covered with phosphorescent stars and planets. Paintings are hung on some of the walls. Between paintings, drawn on the walls itself are sketches and quotes. The room is so personal it hurts to stare at it.

“I like you room.” I say matter-of-factly.

The smile Thomas gives me could light up a whole town from how bright it is. It was as if Santa Claus had come to see him with presents in mid August.

“Thanks. I decorated it myself. Marcus doesn’t like what I did but he has no sense of fashion so I forgive him. Alec fortunately loves my room. He enjoys staying in my room more than anything. Or more like, when he is not out fishing for women.”

Thomas makes a disgusted face at that and I laugh, soon joined by him.

“You all seem to be really close.”

“We are. It’s been quite a long time since we met after all, so of course we got closer with time.”

I don’t add anything but I think Thomas can sense my jealousy. It’s true though. I am jealous. I would like to have a friendship like that with someone but on the other hand I’m not ready to give up my loneliness just yet. Even if I let Thomas get close to me, I’m still not ready to spill things about myself. My mind is so contradictory I sometimes don’t know what to do or how to think. This topic is making me more confused than I had been my entire life.

“Now you’re here though. And we’re going to get close to you as well, just as much as we all are. You’ll see you’ll get sick of us in a matter of seconds.” He jokes.

It feels like a hidden promise. I smile at him and sit on the chair in front of his desk.

“So?”

“So what?” I ask.

Thomas stares at me, waiting for another answer.

“What do you want me to tell you?” I add, not understanding what he wants.

“What happened at the dickface’s house?”

I sigh and turn around on the spinning chair so I won’t have to face his gaze. I have the feeling that Thomas wouldn’t judge me, like he hadn’t judge me when he found out about the video but I don’t feel like reliving that humiliated moment of my life. Having it in mind is enough and hurts enough so I don’t want to fuel the fire.

“Can’t we forget about that already?”

I know I’m whining but I don’t care. I really want to put that aside once and for all. I spin around on the chair to face Thomas once again.

“You want me to forget that you came to me, begging, close to tears and that you cried in my arms because of an asshole?”

“Yes indeed, that is what I want. So drop it.”

“Well excuse me for thinking that this story is not something meaningless! I haven’t known you for a long time Jess, you’re right about that, but I know that you’re not the type of person to cry when you feel upset.”

“You’re wrong, I happen to cry quite a lot of time and I’m not very proud.”

“This is not the point Jess. God I’m talking to a wall,” he murmurs running a hand through his hair. “I’m talking about something that should have never happened but happened because of me.”

“It happened yes that’s damn right. But that’s not your fault. That kind of guy won’t stop. If I had refused to go home with him, Daniel would have found someone else, trust me. He’s not the type to give up easily.”

“That’s not right. That kind of guy should be in prison!”

“Until we have proof, and I doubt we will because he is right how can I prove that he filmed us when we had sex, we can’t do anything so please Thomas just drop it.”

“But there must be a way!”

Thomas’ stubbornness is touching and warming my cold heart, I have to admit it. But I would rather he put what happened aside as soon as possible. I already have to face Fred and his annoying snarky comments when I go back to school tomorrow so I really don’t need for Thomas to keep bringing the subject back again and again.

“Look Thomas, I really appreciate what you’ve done for me, I do, but just drop it, okay? I don’t want to remember what happen all the time and I don’t want to think about it more than I have to. I already feel violated I don’t need to think about it any longer so I would appreciate if you would just drop it as well. The only thing I hope is that no one will know of this video. Ever.”

Thomas sighs and falls on his bed, eyes staring at his roof. I look at him expectantly, knowing that he can see me from the corner of his eyes.

“Fine.” He eventually gives in. “But I swear that if I see that guy again, I’ll kill him. I won’t hesitate, I promise”

“No need to get violent, you know.”

“I wish I saw Marcus punching his sorry face. I bet he cried like the wimp he is.”

Thinking about that only ends up with me wearing a crimson colour on my cheeks. Yes, seeing Marcus punching someone was actually very hot. I don’t particularly like violence but Marcus defended me and my honour, so I can make a small exception for him. For someone really hot like him. No stop it Jess, bad, really bad.

Thomas catches my dreamy face and throws a pillow at me.

“Marcus is hot isn’t he?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I answer, playing dumb.

“Of course you do honey.” He smirks. “No need to lie to yourself it’s as obvious as a nose in the middle of a face.”

“Shut up.”

I don’t know what to say, I can feel my cheeks heating up the more we talk about Marcus. I throw the pillow back to Thomas but miss his face.

“You know I’m right though. You like Marcus and wouldn’t mind sucking faces with him. But that’s cool, you found someone with whom you can play hard to get.” Thomas winks as I groan and search for something to throw at him.

“Really, how many times do I have to tell you that? I’m not interested in Marcus. I barely know him.”

“Yeah of course, if you say so. You’re still attracted to his dark beauty. Marcus’s charm works magic on you Jess.”

Thomas laughs alone while I’m still searching for something to throw at him. I take a pen from his desk and try to aim his face but instead hit his shoulder.

“Oh come on. I’m only teasing you. Stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting.” I say as I cross my arms over my chest and refuse to look at Thomas.

“As if.” He scoffs then laughs as if the whole scenery is funny.

To him it probably is though. I, on the other hand, don’t find it amusing at all. I stand up and walk over to his window. The grass of his garden is a beautiful green and I distinguish a pool in the back of the garden, next to the fence.

“You have a pool in your garden. How rich are you exactly?”

Thomas shrugs as if it was common to have a pool in a garden and it probably is for people like him who have a lot of money.

“I’m not rich. My parents are. And we almost never use it. My parents should have kept the money to a better use. They always do that, always. Buy me things to buy my happiness and hoping I won’t mind that they never pay attention to me. It makes me mad some times that they’re always out of town, working and even when they’re here, they’re surrounded by piles of work and don’t have time for me.”

“At least your parents care about you.”

“That’s true, they do. But I wish they take the time to actually spend time with me like a real family should. I don’t care about the newest computer or the newest phone they buy me, I just want my parents to be here for me. I want to be able to tell them things but I can’t because they’re never here. I only talk to Alec about that. But Alec is not my parents even if I consider him as my brother.”

“Maybe they think working hard will guarantee you a place in a prestigious university. You know how expensive it can be if we don’t have a scholarship. I bet they want to make sure they’ll have enough money to cover your four years at university and all the expenses that go with it. Take NYU for instance. Really good university and really expensive too but coming out of university with a NYU diploma is... it’s like a dream. I wish I would go there.”

“NYU...” Thomas wonders. “It seems to be so far away. But at the same time it’s close enough. I don’t think I’d be able to leave this town. I have all my roots here and I have Alec. And Marcus. And my parents. I’m waiting for the day they’ll start to notice me and give me some attention. Anyway, you plan on going to NYU?”

“Oh no. We don’t have enough money.”

“There are scholarships you know.”

Yes I do know. But it wouldn’t be enough. Why would the Apple city, one of the biggest cities in the world, want someone like me? Even the foreigners have better chance at entering NYU than I do. I don’t stand a chance and I know it. At least, Eastern International College wants me and wants to give my chance. This is better than nothing, better than what I can hope for.

“I had an offer this morning.” I state, still looking at the window.

I turn around to face Thomas who had straightened on his bed and stares at me, full attention on me. He doesn’t blink as he waits for me to start explaining and I blush a little under his hard stare. This is all so sudden, so new to me that words almost disappear from my mind.

“Eastern International College is interested in me. They say if I keep my grades up I have a chance to have a full scholarship to study whatever I want.”

“That’s good news, isn’t it?”

Thomas is smiling so wide I wonder how his cheeks don’t have holes in them yet.

“Yeah that’s an incredible opportunity, really.”

I stop, hesitating between continuing or shutting up. Thomas presses me slowly with an encouraging smile.

“But?”

He seems to read my mind as clearly as if I had said the words aloud. I sigh, running a hand through my hair and setting my gaze on the garden once again, my back to Thomas.

“But... I would like to get the hell away from here. Far away from this town, those people, everything. I know I will be able to do that after I graduate from college but... it seems to be so far away. It’s in such a long time I don’t know how to cope with living here for another seven years. Nothing holds me back here so I could go, really I could, but with no experience and no diplomas what are the odds of me surviving in a big ol’ city like New-York? What would I do?”

A wry scoff escapes from my lips. Then I realize I let my mind wander and unveil intimate thoughts to a stranger. Well, not a stranger. Thomas is no longer a stranger and I would be the biggest liar if I said it but he’s not my friend either. I mean... I don’t know what he really is. My mind is confused.

“I’m sorry. I have a philosophic mind today. I should go home. Homework to do, you know. Keeping my grades up will ask a lot of work.”

“You can do it here. You know. If you want to? We could it together and then we’d eat pizza while watching a silly soap opera on television.”

Thomas’ suggestion is tempting. His face doesn’t hold any trace of pity or disgust like I dreaded. His eyes are the most earnest I’ve ever met. Actually, his whole being is the most earnest. The guy who will fall in love with him will be the luckiest.

I open my mouth to say no but Thomas speaks up first, as if he had read my mind. Again. He gets on his knees on his bed and extends his hands together in front of his chest in a prayer gesture.

“Come on say yes. We’ll have fun I promise. That way we will get closer and I can even ask Alec and Marcus to join us later tonight, what do you say?”

This, makes me less want to stay. I don’t feel like seeing Marcus again, not considering the circumstances we met earlier that day. Thomas’s face is begging and I feel my will lessen the more I stare at him. His puppy eyes and trembling lips are the reason for my next words:

“Yeah, alright. I’ll stay.” I whisper.

Thomas’ cry of joy rings in my ears as he kicks the air with his fist and jump on his mattress like a mad man. He then jumps on the floor and attacks me with a hug. I awkwardly pat his back before taking a step back, holding on his shoulders to keep him in place.

“We should study downstairs, it’ll be more comfortable.”

We spend the next few hours in the living room, focused on our homework. It feels nice to have a presence next to me as I do my work for school. I hadn’t noticed how much I felt too alone before Thomas came into my life like a whirling storm.

Surprisingly, Thomas is very good at French and he offered to help me do my homework and understand the language better.

Around seven pm the pizzas Thomas ordered are finally delivered and we savour them while watching a dumb film we found. The doorbell rings making me jump on the couch as Thomas saunters off to the door, singing quietly to himself. From my spot on the couch in the living room, I make out Alec embracing Thomas. The lot comes inside with Marcus in toe. Trying to keep my cool, I wipe my clammy hands on a napkin and stand up as the three men come in the living room.

“Good night Jess.” Alec says.

The whole situation is awkward. He puts an arm around my shoulders and squeezes me into his chest like he does with Thomas. I pat his arm and step back almost instantly. Marcus doesn’t say anything, he only nods his head at me when our eyes meet.

“Well, let the night begin!” Thomas happily shouts.

He goes over some speakers next to the television, on a shelf and turns the stereo on after shutting the television off. A rock song begins and Thomas shouts his appreciation and dances to the beat.

I sit back on the couch again with a slice of pizza in a hand. Alec joins me and sits on the floor next to the table to have an easier access to the food while Marcus graciously drops himself on the other end of the couch, a few feet away from me. He grabs a slice of pizza and brings it to his mouth. His lips are glossy from the grease and his tongue darts out to lick the sinful pink lips. Marcus’s movements are slow and I find it quite erotic to watch. As if he felt my gaze on him, Marcus turns his head to the left, his blue eyes piercing through mine. He arcs an eyebrow and even that gesture is hot.

“What?”

I shake my head and avert my eyes from him. I don’t dare talking to him freely like I did the day we met or even just hours before in the car. Usually, I wouldn’t have minded to give a snarky retort and be sarcastic as hell and try to fight with him. I like our verbal jousting, however, tonight, I don’t feel like fighting with him. It takes a lot of energy. I just want to admire him from afar and I want them to ignore me and let me live my own life in my corner of the couch. It’s very comfy.

“Did you lose your usual verve?” He ends up asking.

His tone is light, detached from the world, as if he doesn’t really care for the answer. Marcus takes another bite of his pizza, his eyes trained on me, not leaving mine. I have to bite my own lips in order to keep the moan from coming out. Marcus is a really hot guy and I’m not even sure he knows it and does what he does on purpose. It would be much easier if I could just hate him and dislike him. No, better: if he wasn’t that attractive.

I squirm on the couch, averting my eyes once more. Where are Thomas and Alec when I need them?

“You didn’t seem to mind earlier, to talk back to me. What happened? Realized you were not good enough to handle losing against me?”

I glare at him but don’t answer back.

“What happened?” He says again with that light unconcerned tone.

“Do you really care?”

I squint my eyes as I look at him, sceptical. It seems impossible for Marcus to care about me. My suspicion is confirmed when he emits a laugh.

“Not really. I kind of don’t care a lot if I’m being honest with you. Teenage dramas are not my thing.”

“Great then don’t come and bother me if you don’t care.”

I cross my arms on my chest and glare at the sofa just in time for Thomas and Alec to come in the living room, arms full of bottles of beers. They’re laughing but their laughs die in their throat when they notice the thick tension in the room. I mean, the thick tension coming from me. Marcus is an asshole and he doesn’t seem to care about anything.

“What happened between you too?” Thomas asks.

“That guy is a selfish and rude bastard.”

“The only rude person here is you kiddo. You don’t get to throw insults to people like that.”

“It’s not as if you didn’t deserve the insults. Asshole.” I add under my breath but seeing Marcus’ glare he heard me.

“It’s not as if I hadn’t saved your honour earlier.” He retorts back.

I stay silent at that, not knowing what to say because he’s right. He did save my honour even if I never asked for him to do that. His throws me an award winning smile when I don’t reply anything.

“Ah, beers.” He adds taking a bottle that Alec just put on the table. “Cheers,” he says, taking a sip from the bottle.

What a... prick! I seethe in silence and send him a death glare but he doesn’t see it or pretends I don’t exist.

“Well,” Alec starts, “that’s what I call love at first sight, innit?”

I blush at the word love and turn to the television even though it’s off. Marcus is a prick, I could never love him, even though he’s hot. After tonight, I will never see him again so it’s not as if I cared.

Thomas sits between us with a bowl of popcorn and hands some to me.

“Come on Jess, smile. It’s only the beginning of the night.”

 

Two hours later, Thomas is starting to get more and more wasted as time flies. He shakes his bum from left to right, flailing his arms in the air to the beat of the music, under my perplexed stare and his two amused friends. The three of them keep talking and never stop, not even to take a small break in between conversations. Now that the tension between me and Marcus toned down the atmosphere of the room is lighter. I completely ignore Marcus and he does the same, sipping on his bottle of beer and annoyingly laughing out loud, as if he knows it’s tugging on my nerves.

I glance at him from the corner of my eye from time to time, trying to be as discreet as possible but judging by Marcus’ smug smile I must not do a very good job at it. It’s not really surprising anyway; I could never be a spy I would get killed in a matter of seconds, really.

I have no idea what the three of them are talking about. They switch subjects every so often that I’m completely lost. Not to mention that I don’t really pay attention to what they’re saying because let’s be honest here, I am not particularly (not to say at all) interested in their conversations. I am just sitting on my spot on the far end of the couch, as far away as possible from Marcus, listening to snippets of their conversations that go in my right ear and go out immediately from the left. No one seems to notice that I don’t take part in the discussions but I don’t mind. Actually I rather stay where I am, briefly listening to them then being obliged to answer and participate.

I feel out of place when I look at Thomas being the idiot he is doing silly faces to make Alec laugh while Marcus is fondly staring at them but pretending he’s a tough guy. Their friendship is strong, it’s obvious, and I’m feeling left out. It’s partly my fault, I don’t want to intervene and interrupt whatever moment they’re all having. I enjoy watching them even if jealousy is creeping on me slowly. No one of them is under the other, they’re all on equal footing and I find it really cool that they can make their friendship work the way they do.

It reminds me a bit of my relationship with my Mike. Well, my past relationship with him I should say. I sigh. I miss having someone I can be myself with and I miss having someone being close to me. Of course there is Thomas but this is completely different? He’s only... a friend? My friend? Definitely not more, that’s for sure.

Eventually, I silently get up from the comfortable brown couch, flinging a mediocre excuse behind my shoulder to whoever wants to listen as I turn around and walk the few metres that separate me from the spacious kitchen. A second later I am pressing my back against the nice crème coloured island in the middle of the kitchen facing a double framed window above the sink. Sighing, I run a loose hand on my face then throw back hair that fell on my eyes with the back of my hand.  
Outside the window, I make out the moon, shining and lighting up the black sky with its silvery ray. Only a light coming from the gas cooker right beside the sink is on, the rest of the room is in the shadows. The atmosphere is dimly-lit but I like it better that way. It feels as if I can disappear in the shadow like a ghost would disappear through a wall. I don’t know how much time passes where I’m just standing there all alone, but it must be quite a long time judging by the footsteps echoing on the tiled floor behind me. Keeping my eyes on the moon, I wish to lose myself in the immensity of that vast sky that nothing can stop. I don’t turn around even when I feel someone lean back on the island next to me.

“What a beautiful view isn’t it? Kind of hypnotizing.”

In spite of myself, I smile slowly. Something in Alec’s voice soothes me. I don’t know what or why but my body relaxes and my shoulders loosen imperceptibly. I let my body sprawl out even more on the island, an elbow propped on the counter.

“Why aren’t you with the others?”

“And missing that spectacle?” He falsely gasps a hand over his heart. “Never.”

I let out a laugh as Alec gently bumps his shoulder with mine. We stay silent after that, only hearing the music coming from the living room as well as Thomas’ hysteric laugh. Until Alec breaks that rather peaceful silence:

“Thomas told me what happened today.”

I close my eyes and sigh for what seems to be the hundredth times today. More and more people seem to be aware of a secret I desperately want to keep for me, myself and I. Alec continues, not aware of my commotion.

“You know, assholes like that you’ll meet one at least once, one day or another. It’s like a step we have to cross. And now all you need to do is overcome what happened. You need to learn how to move one when shit happens.”

“Alec, I don’t want to seem rude or anything but could you please drop it? (Oh how familiar this is.) I didn’t want to talk about it with Thomas so of course I don’t want to talk about it with you either, alright?”

Alec nods and doesn’t say anything else. He seems to hold back from adding something though. So I sigh once more and turn to face him properly.

“Come on, spill it.”

“I also talked with Marcus. He was by the way very upset and angry after a guy he never saw before today.”

I raise my eyebrows, confused and taken aback.

“And this concerns me why?” I ask, eyebrows still raised. I lift my hand up when Alec opens his mouth to retort something. “Yes I know. It was because of me I admit it, but I never asked him to punch a guy for me. I was managing just fine before he interfered. What is not my fault though is that he has some anger problems that he should start to take care of.”

“Marcus is a real dick to people he doesn’t know that’s a fact and everyone who knows him knows that, Thomas probably told you, but he wouldn’t just punch someone.”

“So what? I should apologize because HE punched someone? This is not my fault.”

Slowly but surely, anger starts to boil in me. As is humiliation. Alec seems to notice because his face softens when he lowers his gaze to me.

“I’m sorry Jess, I’m not saying that to blame you. And I’m not accusing you of anything, I’m simply trying to understand Marcus’ gesture. Something about you must have pushed him to defend you.”

“Why don’t you ask him then? He knows better. I don’t know him and I had only talked to him once before today, unlike you and Thomas. If there is anyone capable of understanding him it must be you or Thomas. Not me.”

“I have to admit, I was hoping that with talking to you I would detect what Marcus saw in you. But I couldn’t. Maybe he just has a crush on you.”

I almost choke on my spit when he says that. After I recover I guffaw so loud and so long I have to hold my sides.

“Are you kidding me?” I manage to say in between two cackles. “Marcus having a crush on me? Me?” I point a finger at myself, emphasising the word ‘me’. “I really don’t think so. This is absurd.”

“Not so much. For a boy, you’re really good looking and you’re funny when you loosen up a bit.”

His compliment makes me blush so I avert my eyes. I know Alec is straight and likes girls but hearing a compliment from someone always makes people feel good about them even for just a minute. And coming from someone like Alec it’s even more special. He is secretive and rather reserved around strangers.

“I thought you were straight, Alec.”

Marcus is eyeing us scornfully, his arms crossed over his chest in a menacing way. Alec turns to me with a look that says ‘see I told you so’ before turning to Marcus.

“No need to stick out your fangs Marc.”

He slaps him on the shoulder twice then exits the kitchen, picking up a drunk Thomas off the floor of the living room. I smile at that but lose it the next second when my eyes meet Marcus’s.

“What?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment then his fathomless glare eyes my body up and down a few times until his dark blue eyes probe my eyes, searching for something. A chill runs down my spine and shakes my fingers but I stay put with an impassive face, holding my feelings inside of me.

“You should stop to let anybody get close to you like that.”

My eyes widen in shock as my mouth opens and closes a few times without any sound coming out. I stay speechless a second then suddenly, like a violent wave, the angry words come flooding out of my mouth:

“What is your problem? I’m not a damsel in distress for you to save, okay? And I’ll let you know that I am not a whore either so you have no right to talk to me that way, assuming I would let anyone and everyone touch me. And Alec was only complimenting me, which I’m sure is a word that must not belong in your caveman vocabulary and besides-“

I can’t finish my angry rant. A pair of lips crushed on mine so suddenly it made the words stop flooding from me. The kiss is fast and aggressive and over before I can wrap my mind about what is happening. Still and dazed, I stare at Marcus in wonder, not knowing what to think.

“You-“

“You speak too much, all the time. So shut up.”

Marcus turns on his heels and joins the living room, leaving me stunned. I stay in the kitchen a few more moments, trying to gather myself. Then, I too, join the living area with a confused state of mind.

Thomas is lying on the floor, telling a non sense story that makes Alec laugh to see Thomas so drunk out of his mind. A small smile plays on my lips as I watch the two.

“Guys, I’m gonna go.”

In a heartbeat, Thomas is on his feet, tumbles over his own feet and falls on Alec.

“No Jess you have to stay. We’re having so much fun!”

He keeps whining and tugging on Alec’s shirt to urge him to do something. It makes me laugh a bit so I kneel down in front of his face and pat his head.

“We will see each other tomorrow anyway.”

“Can’t you stay a while longer?”

“No I really need to get home.”

“Then Marcus will drive you home. Right Marcus?”

“I can go home by myself.”

“You don’t live next door Jessy. Marcus will drive you home, end of discussion.”

“You better say yes otherwise he’ll keep bothering you all night.” Alec intervenes, half laughing, half fonding at his friend.

I glare at him. He shrugs, laughing at me. Alec gets up, taking Thomas with him and puts him in the couch.

“Bye Thomas.” I say.

In a clear-sightedness moment, Thomas nods smiles at me and waves his hand as a goodbye. Alec takes me in his arms for a quick hug, which is as awkward as the first one, but still less awkward. I hug him back then walk out of the house. I hear footsteps behind me as I walk up the large path that leads to Thomas’ house and turn around.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll ride you home.” Marcus answers casually with a hint of perkiness.

He gets in his (still beautiful) car and with a head gesture, motions me to get in as well. Sighing, I get in his car. The ride is silent. A thick and awkward silence. I look out the window so I am not tempted to sneak glances at Marcus. When the car stops, I hastily open the door, ready to bolt to the front door of my house when Marcus speaks up:

“I was serious earlier. About whom you go around with. Be careful.”

“I should really keep an eye on you then since you seem to have a liking to brutally force a kiss on people.”

I get out of the car before he has time to retort something and almost run home.

Marcus is so... frustrating and annoying. He’s so arrogant and confident. And his lips... Remembering his mouth on mine, my fingers brush against my tingling lips. No Jess. Bad, really bad. Marcus is out of my league. And besides, he’s too... infuriating.


End file.
